


Blue Hair, Red Jacket

by HammieSlice, OneWhoTurns



Category: Oxenfree (Video Game)
Genre: (kinda), AU where Jonas's mom lives, Biting, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Literal Sleeping Together, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, TA/student, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, a bunch of passing notes and texting, may be a rating change, nightmarebane, no step-sib relationship, radio holder Jonas, sorry - Freeform, the moral of the story is sleep is important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 66,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammieSlice/pseuds/HammieSlice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoTurns/pseuds/OneWhoTurns
Summary: Something happened May 1st, 2016. When Jonas woke up, his mother was alive and he didn't remember the last year and half. Nearly five months later, his family has made the move to Camena for his mom to teach. His goal is to keep his head down and be good, for his mom's sake. That's made a lot harder when the girl he's never met but somehow recognizes decides to make herself a part of his life.-When Alex's brother died, she lost what small amount of stability she thought she had. Her parents divorced, she became a pariah, and decided it was better to break from the mold her community created for her than to ever live for their approval. But since May she's been haunted by memories and dreams of things she doesn't understand. And now there's the mystery kid sitting in the back of her English class...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another Turner/Hammie project! This was actually the first thing we started as soon as we finished _So it Goes_; imagining an alternate universe (with a slightly longer loop) where, with Jonas as radio holder, he made the choice in his flashbacks that caused his mother to live. 
> 
> There may be some consistencies you notice between our fics (character names, for one, and a few ways of referring to each other). Multiverses are weird, right? ;D 
> 
> Turner wrote for Jonas, Hammie wrote for Alex.

[ ](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/post/188419575450/blue-hair-red-jacket-alexjonas-jonass-mom)

**ONE**

It had really only been two weeks or so, but it felt longer than that. Alex had walked into seventh period to find her usual English teacher missing, and replaced with another one, who she thought was just a long-term sub before it all sunk in. It wasn’t a terrible switch - her old teacher had been kind of an old coot, and he really didn’t like the class - but the new one was nice enough. Even though there were some odd things about her. Alex had just kept her head down about the whole thing, really. No reason to get involved. Especially since she needed to, now. After… everything.

She’d been late coming out of her last period thanks to an extra long test she hadn’t had the time to study for, and she’d spotted some random guy staring down the local punk like he was about to kill him. Of course Alex had stuck around. Ren went on ahead, and her other friends took the bus, which only gave her the time to watch as Mystery Man absolutely destroyed the asshole. The thing was, she didn’t know the reason. Was it a hit? A drug deal gone wrong? Either way, she hadn’t told anyone. When there was something exciting going down for once, there wasn’t a reason to spoil the fun.

So here she is. Two weeks later, after the boy had shown up at school more and more, and had practically become her teacher’s assistant within that short span of time; from when she’d seen him deck a kid, to acting like some perfect apple-polisher. It didn’t sit right with her. Then again, when does anything sit right with her anymore.

After shooing Ren off to some vacant table to wait while she checks around the back of the school, there he is again. Carrying a pair of files and minding his own business. Too easy. Alex jogs her way closer, and finally grabs onto the hem of his shirt, an odd kind of crooked grin on her face.

“Alright, Rocky Balboa: what’s the catch?”

-

“What the _fff-_” Jonas cuts himself off, because oh right, school property, probably shouldn’t be cursing like a sailor. He’s been really good about behaving like a somewhat respectable unofficial-TA while hanging around Camena High. Which might possibly be happening more and more. Not that his mom minds it when he offers to help out. It’s giving him volunteer hours for whatever future applications he’ll make, fits in well with his half-load of courses at the community college, all around gives him positive cred in the new community. Apart from the whole incident of a couple weeks ago. But no one saw that, and the kid has been smart enough to keep his mouth shut so… Things seem to be going okay.

The move to Camena was kind of a big deal, but he’d graduated (after his whole weird is-it-brain-damage situation) with no plans on the horizon, his whole suspension thing in North Valley had already made it a little awkward socially, and his mom was ready to leave the memories of the North Valley Medical Center behind and go back to work. They’d needed 12th grade English teachers at Camena… It had sort of just fallen into place. Besides, once they’d crossed the county line it had felt familiar somehow. He didn’t mind it.

What he _ did _ mind was douchebags who like spouting off shit about stuff they know nothing about, and being really fuckin’ rude about his mother. She’d been through enough already, some rich kid student shouldn’t get to make fun of her for the one day she couldn’t go through the trouble of maintaining the whole illusion. It was the comment about trying to pull off her wig that really flipped the switch for him. And maybe that was why he’d started coming in to help her out every other day or so. To keep an eye on her. To keep an eye on the dick who thought it would be funny to humiliate her in front of her students. Well, it wasn’t about to happen on his watch.

But really, most of Jonas’s time in the classroom was spent grading multiple choice tests and studying for his own gen ed courses, and just keeping an ear out for trouble. Rarely ever took much notice of the students not on his shit list, to be honest.

But he recognizes her.

“I-” He hesitates for a second, 'cause he _ does _ recognize her, but— well, the hair is familiar enough, she’s by the windows in one of the end-of-day classes for his mom, but her _ face _ is familiar, too. His brow furrows. She really _ really _ looks familiar. It’s like a weird déjà vu, and it has him at a loss for words for a second.

-

That crooked kind of grin only grows on her face. Alex does her best not to talk loudly, seeing as there are still a few kids coming out of the building, and lets go of his shirt. That might just be weird. Unless she’s trying to interrogate him, which— well, that is kind of what she’s doing.

“C’mon, I’ve seen this play all the time. Drug ring? Underground fight club?” She sounds almost too happy to be doing this. Her eyes hold only mischief as Alex bounces on the balls of her feet and waits for his reply. No matter what he says, she’s heard some things, which means she’s going to get answers. Half decent answers. “I saw you thwack that kid. Of course I didn’t say anything - I’m not trying to get you killed by your evil mob bosses - but something has to be up. I mean seriously.”

She gestures toward the cross hanging around his neck, his face, and then the rest of the school. He’s been hanging around her English teacher and the school grounds in general ever since that fight. Maybe Mrs. Long is onto him? Or maybe she’s in on it? That’d be more interesting. Alex has been itching for a distraction ever since the school year had started, and she may have finally found it, if any of her assumptions are true. Which they usually aren’t.

-

At first the best he can do is raise a bewildered brow, but as she goes on his face hardens. Jonas isn’t keen on being accused of things he hasn’t done. He’s even less keen on this girl - this _ weirdly familiar _ girl - this _ weird_, familiar girl - being aware of his little tête-à-tête with Douchface. His expression shutters, annoyed and on edge. Is that some kind of threat?

It’s frustrating, 'cause there’s something nagging at him about Miss Blue Curaçao over here, and he wants to pin it down and figure out what it is, but also— well, the kid shut up 'cause he knew he was in the wrong. But an outsider would still be fully aware that Jonas had thrown the first punch. The only punches that actually mattered, in all honesty. And he isn’t underage anymore. Beating up a kid isn’t fair game once you’re over 18. It’s just mean, and could probably be deemed assault. He’d had a close enough call the first time around, he really doesn’t want any violence ending up on his permanent record.

So he watches her, and very carefully doesn’t move, deciding on his angle here. He could intimidate. She already knows he can follow through. But if she _ really _ hasn’t said anything about it…

Jonas has several inches on her, and lets that add some weight to his look down at her. She’s kinda cute, in a ‘_never gonna happen, she’s your mom’s student, underage, and also very possibly insane, but hey she’s got cool hair_’ kind of way. His lips are in a flat line, the words tripping at the tip of his tongue before he decides to just ignore her questions and settles on, “You’re in— you’re, what, seventh period? Mrs. Long’s class, I mean.” Something later in the day, 'cause he’s seen her before and he never shows up before lunch, even on days where he doesn’t have his own early classes. (And he’s made a conscious effort to never have classes before 10am regardless.)

-

“Yup! You’re in there sometimes for what, like, uh— a degree in teaching or something? I mean, that’s what I can assume, since you end up helping with grading and all that jazz.” The topic change doesn’t bother her much. Alex can just wring the rest out of him when he actually wants to talk. “Honestly I’m kinda glad Mrs. Long got the job here. She’s much better than the grouch of a teacher the seniors used to have. I mean, there were actual horror stories about the guy. Like how he stalks the halls at night and steals test papers!”

She curves her fingers like claws, wiggling them around as she chuckles softly. Seriously though, according to Clarissa (before everything) that guy was a menace of a man. Some old army sergeant or something. Mrs. Long is sometimes a little cheesy, and can go on about some stories in particular, but Alex likes her as a teacher. Which is rare. She hasn’t liked someone as a teacher since elementary, and they’d been hard to top. But her train of thought is interrupted with—

“Yo, Alex! Are we gonna get moving soon, or—” Ren pauses in his jog, slows it to speedwalking, and he gets just close enough that she can loop an arm around his shoulders and pinch his cheek. “Ow! Ow ow ow, hey, you know I hate it when you do that! Also, who’s the dude?”

“Don’t know his name yet. Mystery TA, this is Ren, my best friend since preschool. And a pain in my ass since long before that.” There isn’t anything but fondness in her voice. Her friend just laughs, knocking her in the side with his elbow. What an odd pair they make.

-

Alex. Okay, so her name is Alex. Does he know any Alexes? Maybe before she dyed her hair? But then how would he know her?

Jonas is racking his brain, staring maybe a little too intensely at her because _ what the hell why can’t he figure this out_, when Blondie shows up. He looks… less familiar. Not in any of Jonas’s mom’s classes, at least not the ones he sees, but maybe he’s seen him in the hall? He doesn’t have that same weird uncanny thing that’s going on with Curaçao. _ Alex. _

He ignores the new kid, though he’d probably do better not meeting more high schoolers, even if they’re only like a year younger than him, and instead shifts the files under one arm as he asks the girl, “Have we met before? Like—” His eyes dart to Blondie - Ren - and he corrects, “Like _ met, _ met.” He’s a man of few words, and even fewer in the face of a kid who’s clothes scream casual entitlement. She’s a little better. Old jacket, beat-up boots.

-

Ren grins, “Wow, what an original pickup line there—”

Alex cuts him off with a swift jab to the back of the head. “Oh shut up! He just thinks something looks familiar, that’s all.” She has to glance him over once, twice, three times, before something starts feeling off. Familiar, and off. Which means the mystery TA is someone she’s seen around before. Maybe when her hair was still brown? Maybe before the whole... incident. For a minute she runs through her head, trying to think, before something clicks.

“Oh, wait, were you at that block party a few weeks back? The one where the grill started flaming and everyone freaked out but it wasn’t really a huge problem because one of the kids shut the lid on it and everything was fine?” The one for the new neighbors. Maybe she’d seen him hanging around in the backdrop and just didn’t realize until now. Or she’s trying to fake herself out of some weird déjà vu so that she won’t freak out once she gets home.

-

This time, the look Jonas shoots at the blond is a little more pointed, but he doesn’t get a chance to defend himself before she’s doing it for him. Still, he’s not-quite-but-nearly scowling as she looks him over. And trying not to do the same in turn. Seriously, it’s bugging the hell out of him. His fingers twitch but he doesn’t reach for his lighter 'cause that would _ definitely _ be a no-no on campus (it’s bad enough that he’s already found a spot to light up behind the facilities shed by the stadium, at least that’s only happened twice — one of which was shortly after… extracting an apology, let’s say, from Doucheface).

A little bulb winks on at the back of his mind when she mentions the block party, 'cause he’s fairly sure he heard something like that, which means they must live near each other, but he was pretty staunchly against attending it when it had been proposed to him. Not a fan of kids in large numbers, really. Still, it fills in the blanks a little on her. Not nearly enough, though.

Jonas is shaking his head in response when his phone goes off and he quickly looks down, slipping it from his pocket. It’s not the newest model by any means, but it does what it needs to do. “Shit.” Whoops, language. “Um.” He’s got all of twenty minutes to make it to his 4:30 class, and he’d wanted to ask the professor for a word about an assignment. “Look it’s- uh, nice to meet you, I guess.” They’re pretty half-assed goodbyes, but he’s too aware of the way cops wait at the intersection by the school to catch kids speeding home, and he’s gonna need to cover too much space in too little time to get his everyday shit seen to. So it’s off to Bily with a million whispered prayers that he can maybe manage to be five minutes early if he floors it in the right spots.

-

Alex opens her mouth to ask him something else - his name, where he lives, anything - but he’s already gone. Well, son of a bitch. Looks like she has someone to find.

Ren snorts softly, still rubbing the back of his head where she’d smacked him across it. A deserved hit, really. They’d stab each other with their hands for much worse than accusing someone of dealing out a petty pickup line. There must be something on her face that gives Alex away, because he waves a hand in front of her, frowning slightly.

“Earth to Al-Pal! Yellow?”

“Yeah yeah yeah Ren, I’m listening, what is it?”

“You aren’t actually considering talking to him again, right?” The pause in between is enough to make her best friend cringe with shame, and start walking off. “Oh my god, _ Alex!_ He’s a college student! A college student who is working at our school right now, no less. You, you madwoman, are a heathen and should be punished as such.”

She gives him a look of annoyance, and he only shrugs. “Whatever, Reginald, let’s just get over to your house so that we can waste the rest of the day doing the stupid things that teenagers do.” Which is her code word for _ please stop talking about it. _ Ren punches her in the arm, she punches back, and they jog off of school grounds to get picked up by one of Ren’s parents. The rest of the day passes in a blur of homework, dinner, talking with her mother, and then bed.

-

College classes kind of suck.

Not as much as high school, though. The teachers are easier to talk to, maybe? They seem to care… less. Not in a bad way. Just in a ‘we’re not training you to answer government-mandated testing’ sort of way. It’s kinda nice. The social scene is… subpar. He’s okay responding to people if they talk to him, not so great at being the first one to make contact, but there are a few people he’s swapped numbers with. Community college is definitely not quite the same as what he’d expected from your standard college movies. Maybe 'cause there isn’t really a dorm situation, with almost everyone commuting. His mom has pushed him to try going to some of the social events, though (“Free pizza, Jonas— just go so I don’t have to feed you for a night, _ please_”).

Jonas is studying, spinning a pen between his fingers, staring at a printout of his physics professor’s slideshow, trying to focus— but she’s in his head. Miss Blue Curaçao. BC. Alex. As he tries to focus, fails miserably, and gradually slips in and out of consciousness, he’s pretty sure he remembers her from somewhere. Or maybe he’s dreaming. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen her by firelight. Never seen her jumping rock-to-rock across a river. That just… doesn’t make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay Turner took all the important things to say right at the beginning, so this is what's happening: It's me! Hammie! I know right? Been a while. Anyways, I'm super excited to be sharing this with y'all again, especially considering all of my work with Turner is hella near and dear to the soft, squishy organ that pumps my blood through my body. Especially considering this is like a huge stress reliever sometimes but shh we don't talk about that. Hope everyone reading enjoys it!
> 
> Hammie
> 
> -
> 
> Welcome to the new project (formerly referred to as mach2)! Admittedly, unlike some of our other projects, this one is a bit looser, in that we have about ten chapters written that are all consecutive, and then we got excited about a concept and skipped forward a bit to hit that, so.... I suppose we'll see how it all comes together. If we ever hit the point that we haven't written the bridge between points, I may ask if anyone is interested in getting the disconnected parts or not, but until then just enjoy the ride! ^^ I've been poking around looking at formatting for some things in the next couple chapters, so that should be fun.
> 
> For now; what do you think? Any ideas of things you'd expect from this AU? Or things you're curious about seeing? Any questions you have? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments section ^^
> 
> -OWT


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

By the time she wakes up in the morning, Alex has nearly forgotten all about her conversation with the mystery TA, bustling out of the house like always. Despite having to half walk/half run her way there, she manages to breeze past Nona on the way up the stairs, waving just like she always does. Without Clarissa around, she’s actually a sweet girl. And, of course, Ren’s huge embarrassing crush.

Alex runs herself through her schedule; elective she doesn’t care about, math, earth science, French 3, lunch, another elective she doesn’t care about, US history 2, and finally English.

The same boy from before is sitting near the back going over papers while Mrs. Long talks, just as cheerful as ever. At least Alex tries to look like she’s paying attention before the lecturing portion of the period is over. She scribbles something onto a corner of paper in her notebook, and folds it up, glancing around to make sure no one is watching before tossing it at him.

Ow. Direct hit to the head. She winces, waiting until he looks up to cup a hand to her cheek and mouth ‘_Sorry!_’ at him.

-

There is maybe some small part of Jonas that takes utter delight in glaring down any kid who dares to sit in the one (1) beat-up couch in the corner of his mom’s classroom. That is his. He helped move it in before classes started. He’s the one who uses it as his personal workspace. Luckily, he usually arrives either once the class is already in session and they’ve taken their self-assigned seats (his mom, hippie that she is, doesn’t do a seating chart, but humans are creatures of habit after all), or he’s there before the class comes in and no one bothers moving the papers off the other half of the couch while he’s working on them. That back corner of the classroom is basically his to use as office-slash-study-hall (because there’s only so much he can do for his mom before he runs out of things to do and resorts to his actual homework). It’s a place where no one has the guts to bother him while his mom is teaching.

Except - apparently - Miss BC.

His reaction to the paper football to the head is relatively low-key, which is good ‘cause he’s not exactly unlikely to curse if something randomly hits him, but the hand raised to his forehead is missed by his mother, who has her back to him as she fills out a venn diagram on the whiteboard. Everyone else seems to be taking vigilant notes.

Except - _ apparently _ \- Miss BC.

Jonas shoots her a pointed look, rolls his eyes at her apology. When his mom turns back around he’s looked away from the girl with the blue hair and is watching his mom carefully to try to keep from drawing her interest as he digs the folded note from where it fell between couch cushions and tries to unfold it as quietly as possible, smoothing it flat.

He raises an eyebrow. Okay, so. Should he feel less weird about his stalkerish impulse to ask about her if she’s asking around about him? Nope, probably not, still weird. It’s just now they’re _ both _ weird, not just him. Jonas really really doesn’t want to, really wants to cluck his tongue and shake his head at the juvenile method of interrogation, but even as he does so he feels his lips lifting at the corners.

None of that.

He clears his throat lightly, tucks the note under some true or false quiz, flattens his face back into scholarly disinterest, and returns to grading. Tries to, anyway.

-

Well, okay, that didn’t work. It kind of worked though. He did read it, she could tell that much, but clearly he hasn’t responded because there isn’t another piece of paper stuck in her ponytail now. Then again, maybe it’s because the teacher is paying attention? Or he’s just ignoring her, like she thought he was. Time for plan number two, then. Alex tears another little bit of paper, writes out another note, and takes her shot.

Thankfully it lands on the armrest near him, rather than on top of him. Alex grins at the top-notch aim, managing to stifle laughter as she goes back to her own school work. It’s something about Shakespeare, annotation and revision, translation? Adaptation? She isn’t really sure. At all. But she’s getting it done, so no one can fault her for that. And if anyone notices the things, she can just… say she was aiming for the trashcan. She’s lazy enough to pass with an excuse like that. Hopefully. Probably.

-

The quizzes are done,and they’re set aside in favor of his own class work.

Jonas is ashamed to admit just how many drafts he makes of a return note. All on graph paper, of course, under the guise of working on physics homework, but still. He puts maybe too much thought into it.

He can’t just come out and ask _ hey why did I dream about you last night_, that feels every possible level of creepy. He’s tempted to tease her about passing notes when she should be doing classwork. He’s extra tempted to throw the words of her supposed best friend - _ wow, what an original pickup line there _ \- back in her face. Instead, he taps his pen, writes a few words, crosses them out, glances at his physics textbook to keep up the charade.

Time is ticking. Closer and closer to the bell.

For some reason, Jonas feels… kinda nervous. Like she’s gonna corner him if he’s not careful, and he’s gonna slip up and mention the weird visions, and the way they remind him of his I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-amnesia from the spring. And that’s… well, that’s already all kinds of weird. That had been awkward as fuck, having to explain that he didn’t remember almost a full school year. That he could barely remember anything after they decided on a third round of treatment. It had come back eventually, but at first… Well, it was kinda scary to be honest. Not remembering. And he’d had weird dreams back then, too.

Jonas’s pen stills.

Had she been in those?

Now that he’s thinking about it…

Back and forth he doodles lines and spirals as he tries to remember, but all of that is a blur of confusion and shame and anger. First the suspension junior year and then, when he was just about to graduate, a year or so just disappearing from his memory. Took weeks to come back. There was a CAT scan and everything. Scared his parents half to death, thinking he maybe had some kind of tumor messing with his brain. But no, there was nothing that unusual, no cross-wired nerves or anything, just… missing memories. And in the end, they came back. They felt a little… off. But they came back.

It’s a good thing he’s faking college classwork ‘cause if he was looking at his TA work with such a furrowed brow people would probably think (or maybe _ realize _ is a better word) that he’s not fit to assist.

His pen hovers as he looks over doodles of spirals and triangles and arches of hash marks, like an odometer. Like a radio.

Alex. The girl with the scuffed boots and the blue hair and the red jacket. The girl who is far too familiar.

Part of him feels a little guilty for it, but his finger flips through the corners of tests until he finds one with her handwriting. _ Not creepy at all, Jonas, least creepy thing you’ve ever done. _ She said Alexandra in her note, but it’s Alex on paper. Alex Strickland. Well, that’s something at least.

He glances at the note again.

He takes leave of the class early, stuffing his classwork into his backpack, gathering up the papers he’s marked for his mom and carrying them to the front. A little square of folded graph paper slips onto Alex’s desk as he passes.

He’s got a name to look into, at least. Even if he feels like a stalker for it. And maybe once he’s tried to iron out how he knows her he can risk talking to her again.

-

Holy shit that actually worked. Even if he didn’t say his name, she still got a response, which— y’know, better than nothing. Alex has both the contents of the note and her own classwork on her mind by the time the bell rings, and she practically sprints out to go and find Ren, because she can’t really believe that actually worked. At all. Her friend nearly gets bowled over walking with Nona on the staircase, as she slides her way in between the two of them, holding out the note with an almost triumphant look on her face.

“Look who got a response from Mystery TA!”

Nona snorts slightly, giggling under her breath.

Alex balks. “What? I didn’t expect this to work! Let me live a little, woman.”

“Lemme see that-” Ren snatches the thing from her, reads it over once, twice, three times, and then grins. “I cannot believe.”

She jumps in, “I know-!”

“I cannot _ believe _ you actually got a response!”

“I _ know!_” Why is she so giddy? She shouldn’t be this giddy about getting a note from someone else. Okay. Calm down Alex, take a chill pill and a breather, whatever else you need to do. The three of them walk out of the building side by side, as she scans for the TA, teal blue whipping back and forth against her neck as she at least tries to find him. Of course, no luck. He’d left early. Which means she’s just going to walk home, and nothing is going to happen. For now.

-

Jonas’s morals have been stuffed straight into the bin, ‘cause he’s about to google a girl he’s barely met so he can cyberstalk her for some memory he feels like he’s missing. Not his proudest moment, really.

_ Alex Strickland. _

There’s nothing coming up right away, but he tags on _ Camena _ and—

Oh.

_ Michael Joseph Strickland, 18, pictured with sister Alexandra, 16; April 2015.  
_

The picture goes along with an obituary, or more like a short piece in the local paper about what a promising talent the guy was. Something about engineering scholarships and football teams, a list of clubs and awards… pretty much a local hero, from the look of things, with more charitable causes than Jonas would expect from a teenager, but apparently that was just who he was. Golden boy.

_ A tragic accident. _ That’s what the article calls it. _ A blow to the community. _ There was a police investigation, maybe? It’s weird, it’s like… there’s too much of an emphasis that Alex was there. The article feels a little… pointed.

She used to be a brunette. Huh. That’s not how he remembers her, though.

Jonas rubs a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. He _ is _ remembering her, though. Or something like it. He knows for sure he’s never seen her sad but… that’s how he’s remembering her. There’s an image in his head. A sad smile, and a breeze off the ocean. He’s got no clue where it comes from. It makes some weird sense, though, with the drowning thing. Should he be more shocked than he is? Should he be more suspicious than he is?

Checking the extra quaint neighborhood directory reveals that, yep, the Stricklands live in the neighborhood. A couple streets back from his house. Though the listing is for “G” and “A.” No “M.” No… anybody else.

He draws the line at physically searching out her house. Way too much. Besides, he must drive by it regularly ‘cause he thinks he can picture it pretty clearly in his mind’s eye.

That night, he dreams of a beach and a fire and the sounds of a radio tuning. It’s not a good dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you may have noticed I'm trying something different with this, and that is embedded images. If you're having a hard time reading the chosen fonts, hovering over the image will show you a transcription of the note, and the image description should also be a transcription as well (assuming it's working).
> 
> Let me know what you think! This is a fun thing (there's even more of it next chapter, so... hope you don't mind it xD) so I hope it works out alright.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, no one said NOT to do more notes, so... have some more graphics! ^^ Hovering over the images (maybe clicking, on mobile?) will give you a transcription if you have a hard time reading the fonts.

**THREE**

Alex wakes up at five in the morning sweating bullets. It’s still dark outside. She’s been having those dreams again. The ones where nothing makes sense, and people aren’t who they’re supposed to be, and Michael is always dead. Michael will always be dead. She can’t go back to sleep. So she fiddles on her phone, paces her room, tries her best not to go into a panic mode just because no one is around. Readies for school early. By seven sharp she’s dressed, quietly eating a bowl of cereal before her mom is even awake. Once the clock hits seven fifteen, Alex heads out the door.

She can take the scenic route today, and so she does. It’s only a few fence hops and squeezing through small spaces, dirtying herself up a bit in the process, but she doesn’t care. The fresh air helps. Being alone doesn’t. But being around people doesn’t feel like the best option right now, especially not this early in the morning. When her breath still mists and she has to button up her jacket to keep warm. Upon arriving at Camena High, Alex goes straight for her classroom, keeping her head down as she swerves through people.

As the day goes on, she forgets. Ren and Nona are hanging out more, which is good, because that might give him the chance to make a move. She asks more about the mystery TA. Doesn’t get too much. People aren’t really willing to divulge information for free, and she didn’t pack a lunch today, which meant she pretty much had nothing to give. Other than her actual wallet money, which— No. Just no.

It’s weird to see the couch empty. Really, really weird. Even if she’d only really noticed the presence a few weeks ago, it still felt odd without the TA sitting in the back, working on his own plans. So Alex just… takes his seat. It’s a couch, and she’s had a long day, and no one else is sitting there. Which makes it even easier to focus, ironically. Maybe that’s why he sits so far back? It’s only speculation. During bouts of notes, she rips a full piece of paper from her notebook, keeping it off to the side on top of her binder and adding to it as she works. At the end of the class, Alex tucks it up into the cushions, careful to hide it so that no one would really look. Other than maybe the TA.

-

Jonas is half relieved and half uneasy to miss a day from CHS. College level English is the bane of his existence, but in all honesty he thinks it might be easier than whatever the kids are doing in the APs at Camena. Still not his favorite thing.

There’s a girl though, Katie, and after a few weeks of sitting next to each other bantering back and forth and making small talk about their lives outside of school she actually asked him out. Which was… weird. But kinda nice? Regardless, he said sure why not, and there are real actual Plans in his life now. Weekend plans that aren’t just watching football or baseball or killing time and getting lectured by his dad to get out of the house and go explore Camena.

The next day it’s back to TA-ing, using his mom’s classroom as enforced study hall (a lot more helpful than he’d originally given it credit for, to be honest— as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, the ban on cell phones and self-consciousness around using a laptop in class actually do kind of help him get some classwork done), and - apparently - Alex.

He hadn’t expected to see her until 7th period, when he usually shows up before or during 5th - and he doesn’t. He does, however, hear the crinkling of paper between his seat and the armrest. Not necessarily suspicious on its own, but there’s a nagging feeling that he should take a look (or at the very least, trash whatever garbage has been stuffed there), and he finds the note.

Lips curve into a sardonic smile despite himself, before he wipes the look off his face to check for witnesses. None. He shifts things around, flattens the note out and tucks it between the pages of his Comm 101 book, holding it maybe a little too vertically to help shield his face.

It would probably look a little weird to anyone to see him grinning at a communications textbook.

He really shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is. He tries to school his face back into something passing for disinterest, but—

And Jonas practically snorts, like a real pig. Too quickly he tries to change it to a cough, and ends up actually choking for a moment.

“Jonas?”

He waves off his mom’s concerned look, pounding a hand at the base of his throat and reaching for his water bottle because he legitimately nearly died over that. _ And now we pretend that never happened… _ Still, he’s a little red. He can blame it on the whole choking business, though.

It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to finally clear his airway, and he pointedly ignores any looks from the class, the tips of his ears pink and he tries to give off an air of apathy, flipping blindly through his textbook. Great, now Miss BC had nearly killed him. Lovely.

His pen flicks in circles through his fingers, trying to draft a response in his head. Something that is super witty and mysterious - he’s mystery TA man now, after all - but it’s kinda difficult. It’s stupid but… he sort of really wants her to like him. Even if she’s maybe kind of insane.

_ “So Alex, ever been really sad on a beach?” _Not the best opener here. But that’s definitely how he knows her. Or some of how he knows her. There’s also maybe something to do with hiking? But like… at night? Or maybe he’s crazy. He forgot months of his life, it’s fair something else would fill in the gaps. Whoever she is, she’s as much of a mystery to him as he apparently is to her.

-

Being late for class wasn’t the plan, but hey, that’s happening. One of her study labs in Earth Sci had run long, and Alex had said she could finish for the rest of the group, and one thing lead to another… Yeah. She’s late. She does her best not to slam into the door when she opens it, kicking it closed behind herself as she dips through a row of desks and over to the couch. She isn’t even thinking about it. There’s an open spot, the couch had been comfortable last time, and her laptop is on low battery and for some reason the only outlet worth shit in this classroom is right by that couch.

Of course the rest of the class is confused. Of course she doesn’t notice where she’s sitting until she’s plugged in her laptop and started typing to catch up to what she’s already missed on the notes. Because of course she doesn’t. Maybe it’s the fact that Alex just ran across half the school, or that she’s in the process of retying her hair up, but spotting the mystery TA nearly startles her out of her skin when she glances over. This wasn’t a smart move. Oh God. Great. She gnaws at the inside of her cheek, finishes tying her hair into her signature ponytail, and then does her best to ignore what’s happening.

It isn’t long before she has a note. Not from the TA, but from one of her classmates, tossed from a nearby seat.

Great question! She doesn’t know. Alex starts scribbling back a reply, huffing softly as she digs her knuckles into her temple.

-

She’s… on his couch.

Why is she on his couch?

He’s watching her silently, with raised brows, half expecting her to start babbling apologies. Or babbling in general. She seems a babbler. The note from her is gone but not forgotten, well hidden in the comm text as he works on 6th period’s assignments.

Jonas is all too aware that he’s not the only one attentive to Alex’s odd seating choice. He turns back to his work (maybe a little stiffly, ‘cause she’s in his space now and that’s a bit much), and thumbs a scrap of loose leaf down to edge out from the bottom of the worksheet of some kid named Dave with absolutely horrible handwriting.

He scrawls it at the bottom like he’s making a note on the sheet, shifts his position to further separate their work spaces (because it’s not exactly a large couch), tilting the note toward her in the process, and keeps an eye toward the rest of the classroom to watch for witnesses.

-

That is such complete and utter bullshit. Alex finishes up on one note, tosses it, and then is instantly face to face with another one. Her face twists in guilt as she gathers up some more of her papers and finally comes to settle on her own side of the couch, one hand typing while the other writes back to the mystery TA on the corner of her notebook. Oh god this is horrible. This was so stupid.

Which she ended up doing anyways. Jesus Christ. From what he can tell, she is actually sorry when she elbows the notebook off of her binder enough for him to see it, still gnawing at the inside of her cheek hard enough to start rubbing it down. She winces slightly when she goes deep enough to actually draw blood, running her tongue along the flesh with an annoyed expression.

Today has been just… great.

Nearly late to school, no lunch, forgot her wallet at home so she couldn’t _ buy _ lunch, nearly forgot she had a speech to do in World History— It’s like the universe just doesn’t want her having a half-decent time. At this point? She wouldn’t be surprised.

-

Jonas hesitates, ‘cause he should probably let her do her classwork. It’s probably a really really bad idea to keep distracting her. Especially in plain view of everyone else in the class, even if they are all the way at the back. In view of his mom. In view of that girl who is reading a note Alex just passed her and completely fails to hold back a laugh. On the plus side, the attention is on her now, and not them.

“Ooh, some insights on the first reading, Jess? I’d agree that _ Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, _ while definitely absurdist, as labeled, is really quite funny even just superficially.”

With the heat off of them, and the girl scrambling to cover her outburst, Jonas frees his physics notebook and scribbles another note.

He wants to shoot her a look, and manages to do so once attention is back on his mom and her overt enthusiasm for Stoppard’s play.

-

Alex glances at it, back to her notes, and then has to do a double take. Okay, that’s just rude. Granted, she had suddenly invaded his usual space, which was also rude. But then again, she doesn’t really keep score about that anymore. Though she waits a few moments to respond, still wanting to get at least a little bit ahead on her notes before starting a conversation. Again.

She can’t really help the fact that she’s grinning that crooked grin behind the monitor of her laptop as she writes, sliding it over using her pinky and ring fingers.

A little bit of a joke, a little bit of a jab. Now that people are more focused on both the sudden laughter and the class, they’re at least out of the main fire. It’s only some of the assholes that might keep questioning her. Alex can most certainly show them where to shove it.

-

Jonas has to hold back a snort of his own at her answer. Right. Dominance, okay. He chews his lip to keep from grinning, but still slips into a smirk. It helps that this is his mom’s favorite play ever (and one he doesn’t actually mind that much) and she can easily interpret his entertainment as memory of watching the film of it with her quoting over it the whole time. He’ll probably feel differently after sitting through multiple periods of teenagers attempting to read Stoppard aloud, but hey, for now it’s a good memory.

Shit, he’s about to scratch the last line out but she’s already seen it. Whoops. And why is he keeping a record of this? He’s just providing hard evidence.

-

She has to cover her mouth to avoid laughing too hard, eyes squeezed shut against a closed-mouth grin. Alex tugs her lips underneath her teeth, and does her best to focus while writing back at the same time. It’s getting easier as she goes along, since this isn’t too terrible and one of the slow readers is up right now. Which means they have more time before she ends up having to read. She keeps one hand in her book, keeping track of pages, just so no one suspects anything.

Eh, fuck it. There’s only a little bit of time anyways, and she isn’t going to go down without a fight. At least, not right now. Patiently, Alex waits for his reaction, trying and failing to keep hair out of her face as she glances down to figure out where in the page they actually are.

-

He takes a second to actually change the assignment he’s looking at, for appearances’ sake, and trashes the page of loose leaf he’d been writing on earlier. He can’t exactly pass off the next few lines as a single note, so he drags a finger along the key like he’s copying down the points that should’ve been mentioned, as he writes on the notebook sticking out below.

She’d cover a few scenes today, with discussion, a few more next week, and then a few days watching the film.

His mom is all about wordplay.

Shit, wait, he probably shouldn’t be telling her this. Is this cheating? Shit, is this like… a punishable offense?

Like that will cover it.

-

Alex is… kind of impressed, actually. Sure, she knew he wasn’t completely on the straight and narrow, but this is white collar crime compared to beating some thug on school grounds. Is that how she equates the hierarchy now? With the mafia? More fun like that, anyways. Also, unfortunately for Alex, she’s generally a pretty fast reader. Actual Shakespeare still kind of screws her up, but before all of the problems she’d run into, she’d been a pretty good student. Then she stopped caring.

“Alex!” her head perks up to attention when she’s called, a humming noise in the back of her throat denoting that she’d heard. “Why don’t you go ahead and read Guildenstern for us?”

“Oh. Uh. Okay?” At least she’d gotten the line before starting to write again. Otherwise, she would’ve been screwed. To most of her classmates surprise, she’s actually going over the lines in an easier tone than others. Mrs. Long at least seems happy she picked well, winking a bit at Jonas before going back to her board.

Compared to the other students droning, Alex at least wouldn’t put you to sleep instantly. “_It must be indicative of something, besides the redistribution of wealth. List of possible explanations,_” She glances over to the TA, and then back to her page. Just a little impressive.

“_One: I’m willing it. Inside where nothing shows, I am the essence of a man spinning _ _ double-headed coins__, and betting against himself in private atonement for an unremembered past._” Her eyebrows furrow a bit. That’s an odd line. It isn’t that it’s familiar, or the same kind of odd she’d dealt with when meeting mystery TA for the first time, but it feels… keen to her spirit, in a sense.

“_Two: Time has stopped dead, and a single experience of one coin being spun once has repeated ninety times…_” A headache is coming on. Alex quietly prays it’s just stress, and not whatever happened during— Well, whatever happened when she went blank. “_On the whole, doubtful._”

-

He really wasn’t intending on watching this whole thing play out, but hey… it’s a good play. Also it’s kind of bugging him ‘cause he’s dealing with his own _ unremembered past _ at the moment and it feels a little on the nose. Then again, as his mother would say, that’s the beauty of the thing. That is, if she knew what he was going through. Which she does not. Though, to be frank, the wink seems to imply _ something _ and God he hopes it isn’t that she knows what’s going on. (Regardless of her apparent approval.)

The reading has moved on, and Jonas’s brow is furrowing, for the first time today really hearing as one student reads, “_How long have you suffered from a bad memory?_” And another, “_I can't remember. _” It doesn’t go on much longer before his mom is taking a sidebar to explain syllogism, and this is one he’s heard before. They used to play a game about it, on long car rides. A lot of play on those shitty rides to Missouri. A is C, B is A, so B is C. That kind of thing. He’s weirdly excited to read their assignments after this, it’s a good one.

Christ, he’s becoming a nerd. Being a TA is making him a nerd.

-

It takes her a minute to notice the sliding of the notebook and tune out the rest of the reading in order to glance over at the new note. Her eyes roll a bit, but it seems good natured, as over the course of both her talking and Mrs. Long drawing a complex diagram around a chunk of text, Alex has deflated into the couch and closed her eyes. Mostly from the headache, and partially because she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. But she freehands another reply, twiddling her pen between her fingers.

Her bright caribbean blue hair. It’s the first thing that people notice about her now. Not who she is, not what she wears, but the waves that fall from her head. Alex prefers it that way. There had been multiple reasons for doing it, of course. One was because she kept seeing ‘Michael’s kid sister’ in the mirror. Not Alex. Hell, not even Alexandra. Another because she didn’t want anyone recognizing her, and she’d figured a new look might do that. But it hadn’t, really, seeing as this is a relatively small town and near everyone knows everyone.

After a moment, Alex glances over to the mystery TA, and offers up a sad little smile. It’s the exact same one from his dreams.

-

It’s incredibly jarring. Just… bizarre. Jonas just stares for a second, ‘cause that’s just— that’s her, except lit by the light filtered through the classroom windows instead of whatever weird fire he’s imagined. He’s completely out of it for a moment, pupils dilating in sheer focus, matching up the points in the image like he’s checking a forgery. Then he frowns, looks away.

It’s too weird.

The bell rings, the discussion of syllogism cut short with a disappointed “Shoot,” from his mother, the assignment given, and Jonas is already on his feet. He turns like he’s going to say something to Alex, but that would kind of ruin the illusion that they weren’t just passing notes all period. And now he’s up he can’t exactly pass another note. Instead, he just hesitates for a second before scooping up the rest of his stuff, taking a moment to sort through the papers and stash the notes, realizing he still has papers to go through before leaving this afternoon. At least with his attention on the paperwork he can avoid acknowledging his awkward stare.

-

Alex is slower in packing her own stuff up, having to deal with a pretty wrecked charger and a finicky zipper. But she’s writing on a sticky note pasted to her thigh as she hoists her backpack on, and then dumps the pen into whatever pocket of it is nearest before taking the note off of herself and sticking it to the mystery TA’s forehead. It’s backwards, but he can figure that out on his own time.

“See you around. Oh, and-” As she’s headed out the door, Alex tips her head a bit toward the hall, and it feels like some weird inside joke that isn’t much of a funny one. A secret signal. “Thanks for letting me steal your couch.”

With that she’s gone, blue hair bouncing behind her as she goes chasing after Ren and Nona. After all, they have plans for tomorrow. Local mall, maybe some Chinese, and then whatever they feel like for the rest of the weekend. Which for Alex will probably just be hanging around and binging on both pizza and Netflix shows. Nothing new. Of course Ren will be driving, because she has her license but no car, and Nona has access to cars but no license. The world works in mysterious ways.

-

Jonas snatches the note off his forehead almost as soon as it’s on, stuffing it into his pocket. Really? In plain sight she’s gonna go sticking notes to his head? Really? She’s halfway gone before he manages, “Didn’t let you, you just-” His voice falters, ‘cause he’s not about to raise it. What’s the point. The class is dismissed. She’s already left. No one really cares.

He moves his bag to an actual desk, fanning out the assignments and separating graded from ungraded as the last stragglers leave. The door is closed to blessed silence from the din of lockers opening and slamming shut in the hallway.

“So…” His mom is wiping down the whiteboard. She wrote the same chunk of text up before each period so she could diagram it live. Talk about loving your work. She shoots him a too-innocent sidelong glance. “Quite the Guildenstern.”

“Rosencrantz?”

It’s an easy misdirection, one she’s well aware of even as she grins. “‘_Don’t you discriminate at all? _’”

“You know, you’ve turned me into a nerd.”

“I’ve turned you into a cultured young man,” she argues, smiling down at her desk. “And so responsible.” She’s teasing him now. “And handsome.”

“English doesn’t make you handsome, that’s… racist?”

Hazel eyes dart to him with a grim smile at the false accusation. “Not English. Literature.”

“Hate to break it to you; literature doesn’t make you handsome either.”

“Really? And your neighbor today was…?”

“Not— Well—” He’s about to say _ it wasn’t the literature _ that attracted her to him, and make a comment about just being naturally good-looking - ‘cause that’s just how they banter - but that would imply that Alex was flirting with him. Which she obviously wasn’t. “We literally just sat there, seriously.” Also not true, but truer at least.

“Hm.”

“Mom.”

“Hm?” God, she’s trying to look innocent. Hard to do with a smirk, but she’s trying.

He should say something, tell her to mind her own business, but he’s not quite sure what to say. She averts her gaze, but the grin is widening. Time for a Hail Mary. “I have a date tomorrow.”

Her painted-on eyebrows raise. “That was… quick.”

“There’s a girl from my English class, Katie.”

Is she disappointed? If she is, it doesn’t last long. Makes sense. Probably better to date a fellow college student instead of being the creeper grad.

“Exciting!” She nods to the pages on the desk before him. “Think you can get those done before your class today or should I pack them up and take them home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the notes. Mistake? Success? Let me know. Also: Jonas's mom! We meet her! What do you think?  
-Turner


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Ren’s horn is blaring outside as Alex struggles with an earring. “We’re gonna leave without you, Al! Hurry up!” Ugh, Jesus, if he would just give her a minute…

Once she’s reassured her mother that yes, she’ll be home by ten and yes, she’ll be with Nona and Ren the entire time, she grabs a hold of her sneakers and jacket, racing outside in just a pair of socks. The ride over isn’t really anything to brag about; Alex is relegated to the backseat, Nona and Ren are holding hands over the center console, and all three are singing along to pop hits that come on the radio. Even if badly. The only half-decent singer there is Nona, but Nona doesn’t let anyone else know that. Her best friend pulls up to a parking spot, shutting down the car and listing off what they need to do.

“First order of business: shopping of any kind. Snacks, toys, clothes, whatever. Second order of business: mess hall!”

Alex rolls her eyes, piping up, “You always want food Ren. This isn’t new! We don’t need the whole briefing shebang.” His face sours in a teasing manner, but he quiets.

Nona drags herself out of the passenger seat first, followed by Alex and Ren, as they travel toward the local Camena mall. Pretty much everyone is here on the weekends, even if it is a bit retro. The shorter girl seems content buying little charms and clothes, while Ren heads straight to his local dealer. Because of course he does, the ratty little addict… But he’s her ratty little addict, and she does the same thing sometimes, so. Two can play at that game?

That leaves Alex out on her own. For a while she just runs through different shops, glances over items that she probably can’t afford even on her best days, and is generally distracted. Carrying a few bags and fiddling with her phone, she hasn’t noticed the people coming toward her, jumping back a bit to avoid them with a flustered apology— And then she spots the mystery man. Who hasn’t even bothered to text.

“Okay, this is insane.”

-

She’d given him her number.

So. …Okay. Maybe his mom had a point.

Then again, the “_If you tell ANYONE I gave you this I will personally strangle you_” note might hint that it’s not Like That.

Either way, it’s burning a hole in his metaphorical pocket (because it’s already programmed into his phone, even if he hasn’t figured out what exactly to send yet) the whole time he’s out with Katie. Apparently the mall is the thing to do here. Beats loitering on playgrounds, at least. He pays for her Starbucks, ‘cause it’s customary (_if unnecessarily expensive_), they walk around chatting. She’s cute. Mentions that she grew up in the area, and he isn’t surprised.

Everything here is a bit pricey, to be honest. They’re mostly window shopping, people watching, sipping away at frappuccinos. He might have attempted lifting something, but he’s a bit paranoid here. It’s not like North Valley where he knew the ins and outs like the back of his hand and could easily pick up exactly what he needed at exactly the right time. Maybe he’ll get there eventually. Maybe he won’t. His dad’s got a better paying job now, his mom is bringing in a salary instead of racking up medical bills; maybe it won’t feel like a necessity. Or maybe he’s stopped caring so much about having the things everyone else has.

Katie’s leading the way, gesturing toward something at the other end of the mall (something fun, probably, but undoubtedly pricey), when she stumbles, coming up short, and he’s got a hand on the small of her back to steady her in an instant.

“Oh.” He blinks for a second before the rules of politeness drilled into him by his parents kick in. “Katie, this is Alex, she’s-” he falters, unsure how to introduce her. Not exactly a friend, really. “Um, she’s one of my mom’s students. You know, the kinda-sorta informal TA thing I mentioned before.” Shit, is he supposed to go the other way, too? “Alex, this is Katie.” She’s… a date? Weird way to introduce someone. Plus, with his hand on her back, that part seems obvious. “She goes to my college.” Still sounds weird. Still _ feels _ weird.

“We’ve met before, actually.” Katie is smiling, but it’s— not exactly _ simpering_. Maybe _ pitying. _ “I don’t know if you remember,” she goes on, fingers woven around her sweating cup. “It was at the memorial.”

Yikes. That… Well, that’s one way to stumble into things.

-

Her head is doing laps around itself to take in the information presented to her, and also to not instantly flip out at the mention of her brother’s memorial. Alex doesn’t hide it well. She goes from that crooked kind of grin to someone that looks like they’ve seen a ghost in about two seconds flat. At least she keeps herself together a little bit.

“…Yeah— Right, no, you brought that big bouquet of flowers?” There’s only a faded memory in the back of her head about Katie. She does her best not to remember anything about the memorial. Of course it doesn’t work, because that will forever be burned into her mind just like— _ Okay, haha, slow down Alex. Seriously. _ “Can’t remember if it was roses or forget-me-nots.”

Now she wishes she hadn’t gone off on her own from her friends. Not really an option anymore, but this is how she learns things. Trial and error. A whole lot of trial and error. So instead of focusing on the topic of conversation, she does her best to think of what she’s learned about the mystery TA— Mr. Long, now. Still doesn’t know his first name. But he had at least dropped a bit of crucial information. It’s a bit weird to see him out of school, if she’s being honest, especially just walking around with someone. It feels… too informal.

-

God, this has gone south very fast. Jonas shoots Katie a surreptitious look that’s somewhere between stilted and annoyed - because seriously: weird _ weird _ way to reintroduce yourself to someone, jumping in to talk about death - and lowers his hand from her back. She’s nice enough about it, Katie is, but he’s definitely evaluating her judgment.

Her smile is like— it’s weird, she’s obviously trying to sympathize with Alex’s loss, but… Jonas’s lips pull for a second. She’s not being _ fake, _ exactly, just… maybe self-congratulatory? Like she knows she’s being a good person for showing her concern. It’s off-putting.

“Oh gosh, sorry-” Katie has her hand on his shoulder, trying to draw him into a conversation he really doesn’t want to have. “You’re new to Camena, right? It was-”

Yeah, no, he’s not about to put Alex through talking about her dead brother yards from a mall food court. “Yeah we moved from— it’s a small town near North Valley. And mom relocated to Camena High.” Just spill some more details, why not, just don’t get this casual chat on the subject of drowned siblings. “She teaches English, actually. I should probably be better at it than I am.”

That seems to work, at least. Katie is smiling at him, nudging him gently. “Oh come on, you’re a great tablemate!”

Jonas shoots a quick look at Alex, just to see if she’s still in that weird frozen state she’d gone into a second ago, then back to Katie. “The upside of a teacher as a parent, I at least know how to fake engagement — but thanks. Just be glad you don’t have to read my essays.”

How does she go from cooing sympathy to giggling so quickly? Has she just never lost someone, ever? Fingers curve around his arm, and he’s pretty sure she’s actually batting her lashes, which— that’s a thing? Not just in cartoons? “I will, though,” it’s a playful smile she’s giving him, “when we do peer review.”

The subject has been changed. Jonas takes a step away, pulling Katie with him, inclines his head slightly to Alex. He wants to say sorry, that she’s stuck being blindsided by reminders of death, but instead he just awkwardly touches her shoulder as they pass. “I’ll see you Monday, Alex.”

-

Mentions of the move have at least brought her a bit out of the fugue state. Okay, so— Mr. Long (which she’s calling him now because it’s better than mystery TA man) and his mom had moved from North Valley to here just a few weeks ago. Which means he probably hadn’t known about her brother. Which is just… Wow, thanks Katie, for being a mythic bitch. Even if Alex barely remembered her in the first place, she’s pretty sure that Katie has always kind of been one. Or just epically clueless.

She jumps when Mr. Long touches her. Because that’s that weird déjà vu thing again, and now she smells oak resin and something like oiled machinery, and— Triangles. What is it with triangles? Something, something, on the tip of her tongue…

And now she’s doing what she does best: running. Alex passes by Katie and the mystery too-familiar-not-familiar man again, shooting them both a two fingered salute before glancing for exits. There’s one right by this consignment store that should lead to the ice cream shop where she’s supposed to meet up with Ren and Nona, so she’ll shoot for that. One problem: the bench right in the middle of the path.

It’s not like she hasn’t vaulted something before, it’s just usually higher. Thankfully for her face, Alex overestimates her strength, zipping over the back with just a bit of a clip to her boots, and then taking off in a jog.

“Bye, Mr. Long!”

-

“Mr. Long, huh?” Katie raises her eyebrows teasingly.

It’s probably a joke about the Mr. part, but the minor insinuation has Jonas’s mind flickering briefly to a consideration of if he’d even want to sleep with her. (Probably yes, unfortunately.) Before correcting himself because that’s probably not what she meant, he’s just— well, maybe it was, she’s kinda handsy, who knows.

“It’s not—” He’s smiling, though, even if there’s a little embarrassment turning his ears pink as he half-smirks. “Not like that.” He recalls creased paper and smudged pen. _ Y / N. _ “I don’t think she actually knows my name?” Or she does, he’s just being purposefully opaque about confirming.

“She’s a little crazy.” Katie is glancing after Alex’s retreating form, and her words are more amused than scathing, obviously directed at the whole ‘vaulting a bench in a busy mall’ thing.

“Nah.” Jonas shakes his head, thumb running along the edge of his phone in his pocket. “Not in class, anyway. Just kinda… bold.”

“Really a shame about her brother. Too bad she couldn’t stop it, y’know? Michael was pretty amazing.”

First off, no he didn’t know - or at least, not as far as _ she’d _ know, if she were paying attention. He weighs his options for a second, the respectful side of him going head to head with his curiosity over Miss BC. Katie seems to make the decision for him, slowing down outside a clothing store.

Jonas slips his phone from his pocket. “You go on, I’ll chill out here.”

She hesitates. “You don’t want to…?” Her head tilts toward the store, blushing. Wait, is this a proposition? Okay, no, he has to be reading something into this. _ Mind out of the gutter, thanks. _

He holds up the phone. “Think I missed a couple messages earlier, gonna check in on that.”

Katie shrugs, heads inside. Jonas perches against a column outside the store, turning on his screen. No new messages. But he already knew he was lying about that. He unlocks it and the blank message is already waiting for him. From when he’d chickened out earlier. Just not sure what to say.

Which is kinda fucked, ‘cause he probably shouldn’t say _ anything _ ‘cause he shouldn’t be texting her to begin with. His neck heats, thinking of the look his mom had shot him. For a teacher she really didn’t get the whole teacher/student problem. Not that he’s a teacher. He’s not technically even an official TA. But still.

He chews at the inside of his lip, glancing up, and gradually follows Katie into the store as he taps out a message.

Alex Strickland  
  
You know, you should probably get a guy’s name before you give him your number.

-

Nona and Ren are at the ice cream place before she’s halfway around the corner from it. Though it isn’t a huge deal, even if they ordered without her, and even if they’re doing the stupid thing where they stab each other’s guts with their fingers. Tasing or something. So Alex gets her own cone - chocolate peanut butter topped with some caramel - before settling down at their table.

“Hey, look who decided to show.” Ren is teasing her, and punches her arm with the most amount of power her can muster, which isn’t much. He’s kind of a twig. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, I ran into some people.”

“Some people?”

“Katie. …Flannigan? Or whatever her name is. Doesn’t your sister know her?”

“Probably. Allie knows everyone, though, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“Katie’s pretty sweet, from what I remember.” Nona glances up from her phone to chime in, still holding her spoonful of cookies ’n’ cream. “A bit much sometimes, though.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. First time I see her in a while, and she goes straight to the memorial.”

“Oh, dude,” Ren scrunches his face up, head on top of the heels of his hands. “Not cool.”

Alex’s phone buzzes, and she nearly chokes. An unknown number, but the message itself is more than easy to identify. Nona gently pats her on the back. Sweet girl. Though she doesn’t manage to answer right away, instead stalling for time by mentioning the whole thing to her friends (admittedly getting some advice) and then shooting a message back.

-

Jonas is not being a super attentive date. He keeps checking his phone. Katie seems happy that he followed her in, though, even if there’s not a single thing in this store that he’ll be buying. Mostly girl stuff, with a few guys things that skew more surfer than… whatever Jonas’s style is. Reformed delinquent? And all kinds of overpriced novelty items. A bunch of hipster shit.

He glances to his phone.

Alex Strickland  
  
You never GAVE me your name, remember? If I knew it, I’d be calling you it by now.  
  
Weren’t you the PI investigating the mysterious meeting with Mr Dipshit in the parking lot? Do some digging, Blue Curaçao.

Fingers are skimming lazily over acrylic cube containers of useless doodads. Katie’s ducked into a changing room to try something on (and no invitation for him, so there’s another thing he’s read incorrectly). His eyes fall on a bin of handheld pocket radios - pretty useless this day and age. But still.

By the time he’s taken up a position waiting outside the changing rooms, he’s got one tucked in an inner pocket. Old habits die hard, apparently.

-

818-5891  
  
Blue Curaçao? Oh c’mon, that’s just rude! You know my name.

A pause, as she rereads his message and huffs at some of the content.

818-5891  
  
Also, Ren isn’t a dipshit. Sure, he’s an entitled rich kid with a bit of a drug problem, but he’s alright.

Ren, who has been reading over her shoulder, makes a disapproving noise. “I don’t have a drug problem!”

“You kind of do, Ren. Why do you think you keep those brownies on you at all times?” Nona takes her side on the issue, a soft kind of smirk on her face. “And don’t say ‘anxiety,’ we’ve both heard that before.”

“So what, both of you are turning against me now? I thought better of you! A curse! A curse upon your family!”

“What, like we won’t have a good harvest or something?” Alex snorts softly, tries to avoid dripping ice cream on her hand, and fails. “Hate to break it to you, Christopher Columbus, But my family stopped growing corn decades ago.”

-

Jonas cracks a smile for a second before he puts his features back into a more concerned expression. Can’t exactly pass for important business if he’s grinning at his screen.

Alex Strickland  
  
Lol, I meant your eyewitness testimony. Blondie seems pretty harmless.

He pauses for a second before shooting off another, hiding his smirk.

Alex Strickland  
  
Also seriously *Alexandra* what are you, some kind of narc?  
  
This is why I can’t tell you my name, you’re gonna report me for fraternizing with students and/or providing unfair assistance and aid. So ungrateful. Tut tut, etc. 

“What do you think?”

The phone goes back in the pocket, and Jonas straightens to look Katie over. She really is cute. Kind of… boring, though. Hot, yeah, but… bland?

-

Alex purses her lips a bit, and Ren is cackling off to the side. Nona nudges him, still reading over her shoulder.

“Don’t you both have anything better to do than watch me text Mr. Long?”

Nona’s head tips to the side. “His name is Mr. Long?”

“Yeah, he’s my teacher’s son. Let that slip when he was talking with Katie and me.”

“So it _ wasn’t _ just Katie you ran into!” Ren jumps at the chance to prove her wrong. And maybe trying to prove more than just her being wrong. “Were they on a date? Did he start texting you on his _ date _? Ooh, Alex, you sly girl!”

She can feel her face heating up. “I don’t know! Shut up!”

818-5891  
  
I mean there isn’t much to say about that douche, he’s a douche. Pretty simple. Though right now my friends are grilling me about not knowing your name, so hooray for me!

Now both of them are laughing. They’re dorks, and sometimes they’re kind of mean dorks, but they’re her dorks. And she’s a dork too.

818-5891  
  
Besides, it’s probably Jonas. Just a gut feeling. Nice name, though. Biblical. Means 'Peaceful’ or something.  
  
Suits you.

-

This date isn’t going to end well. Jonas has already resigned himself to it as he waits for Katie to try on her next round of clothes. It’s just not his scene, really. And if he’s more interested in texting someone else while they were supposed to be getting to know each other…

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out again, returning to their conversation.

Huh. He’s never bothered looking it up before. Hasn’t even asked his mom about it. It hasn’t come to mind, really.

-

818-5891  
  
First off, that’s conjecture.  
  
Second: “Suits me?” So what, you and your little high school friends think I’m soft? Don’t you kinda already know better?  
  
Okay I never said you were soft, I said the meaning of the name. Peaceful. Basically, I don’t think you actively go looking for a fight, unlike me. I’ve done that way too much.

Alex has finished her ice cream by now, and is walking around with one arm looped over Nona’s shoulders, Ren on Nona’s other side with their fingers laced together. They’re headed to some gaming shop that he’d wanted to check out, mostly because of his having like three consoles, but she doesn’t complain because she gets to play on all of them. Perks of being friends with the rich kids.

818-5891  
  
Fight with peers, fight with my parents… Kind of a hothead sometimes. But hey, haven’t died yet!

-

Jonas is just staring at his phone, brow furrowed in contemplative silence, when Katie is finally done.

“Something wrong?”

“Hm?” He quickly turns off the screen and tucks it away. “Not quite. Just…” He shrugs it off, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

It’s very quickly grating on him, her too-kind expression. “If you need to go…”

“Actually, yeah. If you don’t mind.”

She nods quickly, doe-eyed and insipid. “Of course.”

There’s a moment of awkward pause and movement as Jonas tries to determine how exactly to say goodbye. After a couple awkward steps around each other, he pecks her on the cheek. “This was nice,” he lies. And he kinda feels guilty for it. To be fair, she’s not _ that _ bad.

But, to be fair; he’s not _ that _ guilty.

He ducks into a deserted hall area in an alley between mall wings, pausing by a water fountain to look at his phone again. His fingers tap against one another. A few clicks on the screen and then he deletes it again. Another set, another deletion. It feels like too much information. Like some kind of confession or something. But maybe he’s just used to not talking about that sort of thing. It feels like an invasion, even if she’s the one offering. _ Why are you telling me this? _

Alex Strickland  
  
Congrats. I too have maintained a solid record of not being dead.

He goes digging for his keys, comes up with the lifted radio. He looks at it for a second, getting that tug of déjà vu , then tucks it away again, shooting off another quick text.

Alex Strickland  
  
Kinda disappointed, tho, could’ve been a great story if I’d been talking to ghosts.

-

Ren and Nona are both busy with their respective interests in games. He’s looking at first person shooters, she’s got her eye on some dancing rhythm thing. Alex usually goes for horror, but… she doesn’t really have the money for that right now. At least, not on her. Her dad had been the one working odd jobs, anyways, and he’s gone. So she’s left with her doctor-slash-nearly-never-home mom. Not that it’s a problem. Alex likes her privacy.

818-5891  
  
You know, there are stories about talking to ghosts on Edwards Island. Or not really talking, but listening, I guess. 

Another headache. What is it with her and the headaches? Headaches and odd dreams when she goes to bed. Signal stations and power lines, ladders and the brightening 4am sky.

818-5891  
  
If you tune into specific frequencies, there are these things people call ‘anomalies’ where you can hear old messages. I feel like it’s an abandoned call signal thing, since that used to house a WWII base, but Ren’s really into that kind of thing.

And now she’s spouting random facts about an island. At least it’s a topic of conversation.

818-5891  
  
Haven’t been there since my parents split. 

-

He’s almost back out to Bily when her message comes in— well, one, and then another, and then another. Jonas settles himself in the driver’s seat before reading them through. From grinning at their earlier correspondence, now he’s frowning. Not angrily, just… perplexed. Frustrated, a bit, and confused. He could’ve sworn he’d never heard of the place, but just reading the name of it is conjuring sights and sounds and smells into his head.

Another piece of an inexplicable puzzle clicks into place.

First Alex. Now Edwards Island.

Is that where she is? In his…

Jonas groans, rubbing a hand over his face. This is stupid. So incredibly stupid. He’s not some kind of prophet. These aren’t _ visions. _ They’re weird dreams that are remembered too vividly because… because he had cheese the night he dreamt them or something. That’s a thing, right? He still remembers nightmares from elementary school. This is like that. _ Only with a girl I’d never met before. And a place I’ve never been. _ The groan is longer the second time around.

He tosses his phone on the passenger seat, along with the little radio, and ignores it for the drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love some texting. That's the good stuff. ^^ And a little more mystery flavor in there as well. What do you think? Comments, questions, concerns? As always thanks for everyone reading, commenting, kudos-ing etc. =]
> 
> -OWT


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

It’s not til after dinner (and a brief grilling from his mom and teasing from his dad, because of course his mom blabbed about the date thing) that Jonas swipes back into his messages again. 

There’s one from Katie, saying she had a good time and she’ll see him in class. Maybe they can do it again sometime. But no immediate attempt to set up another date, so that’s promising in a roundabout way. 

He still hasn’t responded to Alex. 

And she hasn’t sent anything else, either. 

The same reply keeps coming to mind, but he doesn’t press send. He kills time, finishing schoolwork (or blatantly procrastinating schoolwork, depending on the assignment), fucking around on the internet. 

His interest in the Mariners is superficial at best, but he sits through eight innings of the Saturday night game before deciding fuck the Yankees, and retreats back to his room. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than North Valley, that’s for sure. Still stuck with the old comforter, but that was an investment on its own however many months ago. The mattress came with the house and it’s a step up from his old box spring. 

It’s past 11pm when he finally finds his finger hovering over the send button again. The same thing he’s been thinking since she started spilling too much. 

-

Not getting a response back had made her more than a bit antsy. Ren and Nona finished up their shopping, she came home, and then proceeded to pass out for a little while. Alex got her weird dreams again. The TA in a classroom she hadn’t seen before, with glowing red eyes, and a sickly sweet expression. Waking up on the ferry to Ren talking about some weird poem. Michael, when he was still here.

She shoots upright around ten. Makes herself some instant ramen, settles onto her bed, and tries to ignore the darker parts of her mind. Because of course things start happening later at night, when she’s alone. Not when she actually has people around that could probably help. Ugh. Alex is in the middle of watching a MOBA stream when she gets his message.

Mystery TA Man   
  
Why are you telling me this?

It takes her another half hour to actually come up with something. Why _ is _ she telling him this? He barely even knows her, her family. It’s a chance to avoid what happened when the entire town learned about Michael and her trip to the lake.

Mystery TA Man   
  
To be honest? I don’t really know. It’s a gut feeling.

-

He’s already dozing when his phone dings through his headphones, interrupting his preferred listening for the evening and casting light into his dark room. Jonas rolls over, clicks the screen on to read the notification. 

He clicks his phone to pause, rolls back over onto his back, muddles her response over in his head. A gut feeling. 

It’s easier to access those weird almost-memories when he’s half-asleep. The clips play on the insides of his eyelids. The crackle off a bonfire. The crunch of stones underfoot in a forest lit by staggered light poles. The hum of an electric fence. 

Alex, or the idea of Alex, is woven through all of it and he can’t put his finger on _ why. _

The screen has already gone back to sleep by the time he’s shifted back towards the phone, thinking of replying. A fingertip taps against his case before unlocking the thing. One finger pokes at the screen as he watches with one eye, relying on autocorrect to fix his mistakes. 

Alex Strickland   
  
How do I know you?

-

She’s gone back to watching the stream, though when her phone buzzes Alex has to lean down to grab it from where it’s fallen on the floor. Well, that’s a loaded question. The first option that comes to mind is the block party, but that doesn’t seem right. He isn’t really the type to go to things like that— Is he? Doesn’t seem like it, anyways.

Alex gets up, paces. Opens the window. Closes the window. Opens the window again. Finally, after mulling over risks and rewards, she decides to take the stupid option over the smart one. But that isn’t really new.

Mystery TA Man   
  
How do I know YOU?

After bundling herself up underneath the covers, she waits, and watches. Since her phone is plugged in, the thing won’t die anytime soon. _ So let’s see what happens. _

-

He’s roused from half-sleep, from more half-memories, as his phone buzzes, and he swears he could hear a foghorn right there at the end. When was the last time he heard a foghorn? Or waves? Did he hear waves? Camena’s closer to the coast, but still a good 30-45 minute drive to the water. 

Distantly, Jonas wonders if he should be writing this stuff down. These weird little flashes. He did something like that during the whole maybe-amnesia bit. The notebook is somewhere in the boxes of files in the basement, probably. They’d thought it had been an aneurysm, maybe. Or a tumor or something. But CAT scans, MRIs all came up clean. And there weren’t any real medical side effects. No particular cause for a psychological break, either. He’d just… forgotten. But then they’d started a regular sort of story time thing, coaching him through his own life for the past however many months, and it had sort of… filled in. Eventually. 

He blinks in the dark of the room, tilts his head and checks the text. 

For whatever reason - probably embarrassment, ‘cause what he’s about to say is just stupid - his heart is in his throat as he taps out a slow reply. 

-

Mystery TA Man   
  
Dreams?   
  
Not a pickup line btw   
  
Doesn’t make it less creepy tho   
  
Look nvm forget I said anything   
  
No no, it makes sense.   
  
At least I think it does. I’m not saying it’s prophetic or whatever, or magic, but it makes sense.

There’s a pause where she contemplates her own responses. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe she’s about to make one of the biggest mistakes in her life. But what’s the worst he can do? Cut off all contact? Get her sent to a psych ward? Hell, Alex had nearly gotten there herself.

It still takes her forever to actually send the damn thing. Her stream is over, and her laptop sits asleep at the foot of her bed, lights under the keyboard still winking at her in the dark. Ever since Michael had died, things seemed off. Different. Maybe not from everyone else’s perspective, but she felt it. Even if it’s just grief or a mental snap or something. This isn’t right. She just can’t shake that feeling.

-

He’s still trying to process her quick response - a lot faster than the last couple - when the next set comes in. 

Alex Strickland   
  
If you’re talking about dreams like about forests and some watchtower or whatever the hell   
  
I get them too.

But that just… That’s insane. Not possible. That’s some weird Harry Potter shit. Jonas kind of wants to argue that— well, that it’s not possible. It makes no sense. And they can’t be the same exact dreams, either. _ I literally see you in my dreams. Not just an idea of you, I’ve seen _** _ you_**_. Your face. Your hair. _ That sad smile. God, can he get any creepier?

He stares at the ceiling again. 

Is this like… a past-life thing? He’s never believed in reincarnation, he’s more of a vague-elsewhere/maybe-heaven-and-hell kinda guy, but he’s heard of it, of course. But then she wouldn’t look like _ her_, right? She’d be someone else. A past life. 

There are a lot of thoughts drifting to and fro in his head. He has the sense to share none of them. 

Alex Strickland   
  
Weird

It’s a lame response. But anything more and he’ll come off sounding like a madman. 

-

Alex snorts softly. Is that really all he can muster up? Of course it’s weird. They know each other, but they don’t _ know _ each other, and that doesn’t make any sense. No one else gives her this weird feeling of… something, but she can’t even put a finger on what that _ something _ is. She spends a few minutes typing out messages, deleting them, typing them out again.

_<strike> I think it might have something to do with the Island?</strike> _

No. That went straight into it, and he might think she’s crazy. Hell, he probably already does. Great. Great job. Ugh.

_<strike> Do you know anything about Edwards Island?</strike> _

Other than everything she’s already told him. _ Seriously, Alex, just… come up with something that isn’t stupid? Or at least something off the topic of whatever this is. _

Mystery TA Man   
  
Your name is Jonas.   
  
Isn’t it?   
  
Y

Oh, _ now _ he answers her. Jesus. She rolls her eyes a bit at the screen, and his one letter, but she’s been asking him all week. Jonas. His name is Jonas. It feels like she should’ve known that, but she hadn’t. 

Mystery TA Man   
  
Call me Alex. It’s what everyone else does, anyways.

-

Jonas has a tendency to get… laconic, when he’s not sure what to say. He sends back a thumbs up.

It’s weird ‘cause there’s a lot he _ can _ say, but all of it will sound crazy. And he wants to keep this as measured as possible. Try to at least pretend it’s not the most bizarre thing ever. He keeps closing his eyes, thinking maybe he’ll fall asleep and things will make sense in the morning. 

-

It’s nearly one AM. She’s stayed up later than this before, especially on Saturday’s, but she’s not sure how much longer he’ll be willing to talk with her. Did he have weekend classes? Were those a thing? Alex sits herself up a bit, putting her computer back into her bag, and starting to head downstairs again. Should she be up right now, no, but she’d be up anyways. Even without talking to Jonas.

-

His phone buzzes again.

Alex Strickland   
  
Sorry for stealing your couch. I know I already said that, but still.   
  
Any time

Oh wait.

Alex Strickland   
  
Or not   
  
I mean it’s not like   
  
Look school is important and stuff so yknow   
  
You should do it and stuff   
  
Can’t spend all of class writing notes

His autocorrect is really doing its job, because his finger is definitely poking at the wrong keys.

Alex Strickland   
  
And don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea yknow

-

Alex snorts softly. Pretty sure some of them are already thinking that, but hey, not like she has the power to stop it. Besides, randomly jumping onto the couch had been a rush and a mistake on her part. Which means she’s going to stay soundly in her seat for the rest of her classes. Even if she’s still probably going to be passing notes. Jonas can try to be a ‘good influence,’ but she already knows to take at least some of that with a grain of salt.

Mystery TA Man   
  
Are you falling asleep on me, dude?   
  
No shame if you are, that’s important, but still.

She waits, for a while. Ten minutes pass. Twenty. Alex is eating leftover pizza in her room again, fiddling around on some game, when she decides to just shoot another text. If he’s ignoring her, then oh well— but she doesn’t like being ignored. 

Mystery TA Man Jonas   
  
Jonas.   
  
Joooooooonaaaaaaaaaaas.   
  
Hah actually that really rolls of the tongue.   
  
Seriously though get up if you’re asleep.

Another fifteen minutes of stalling, rather than half an hour. She’s gotten her laptop back out, because there isn’t really a reason to sleep anymore, waiting on replies that she probably isn’t even going to get back, trying her best not to wink out herself. Alex is getting little flashes of things that make no sense. Firelight, the squeak of sneakers on metal, spray painted caves and odd equipment.

Mystery TA Man Jonas   
  
Okay if you don’t text back within three seconds I’m calling you.    
  
3   
  
2   
  
1…

Well. She did warn him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, writing texting is fun. Like it can be so silly, but texts and notes are some of my favorite things to write with these two. Anyway; whaddya think? Drop us a comment ^^


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/post/189043484990/blue-hair-red-jacket-alexjonas-jonass-mom)

**SIX**

He must’ve dozed off at some point because the chime in his headphones is waking him up, from hazy dreams of a creaking dock and an abandoned building and an old book lit by flickering fluorescent lights. Alex on the beach. Booted feet on the metal grating of some kind of tower. _ A watchtower? _ Maybe. 

It’s pitch dark when he opens his eyes blearily, so it’s way too early for an alarm to be going off. Also, isn’t it Sunday? His hand slips under the pillow to blindly tap at the snooze button before rolling over, one earbud lost in the movement as he lets out a low sigh. Too early. Need sleep. Weird dreams.

-

“Helloooooooooo, sleepyhead.” Alex does her best to at least not startle him too bad when he answers. If he was actually asleep, she isn’t about to go screaming in his ear at— she turns to check the clock, and whistles in a low tone. Four in the morning. “You stopped answering, I got bored, therefore I gave you a good three seconds of warning before calling. Kinda surprised you picked up, actually.”

-

He’s too tired to be fully _ startled_, but the voice coming through his headphones is still surprising. There’s a soft noise of exertion over the line as Jonas rolls back onto one side, untangling the loose earbud from around his neck and slipping it back into his ear. “Alex?” His voice is weighed down with sleep as well as some confusion, a low murmur in the dark in case his parents are still asleep. “Why are…” He’s groping for the phone under his pillow, squinting in the light of the screen. He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s 4am,” he grumbles, shoving the light away again. “Isn’t this, like… I dunno… badgering the witness?” He knows nothing about law. He’s heard the term, and liked it, and is vaguely aware that it isn’t meant to be used how he’s using it. “No wait you’re the witness…” he mumbles, turning over again with a hot huff of breath too close to the mic. 

-

There’s a bit of a scuffle on her end when she pulls the covers up over her legs again, settling after she’s piled no less than four pillows underneath her shoulders in order to hold the phone between her neck and collarbone while browsing on her laptop. Again. How many times is she going to do the stupid thing where she puts something away, thinking she’ll sleep, and then goes right back to it? Seriously, this has to be a problem or something. 

Her voice is too familiar. The little hint of a smile in it, almost melodic, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Jonas. Or I guess, half-living. You’ve gotta be tired.” It’s the first time she’s said his name out loud.

-

“I feel like you’ve said that before.” The statement, a murmur stumbling over graveled vocal cords, is told to the dark without thought. “‘s weird.” And why does it remind him of the hospital? It makes literally no sense. That was… two years ago, now? More? Maybe even closer to three, time has been a mess since his mom was admitted. How does that connect to this? Jonas runs an exhausted hand down his face, like it might help wake him up, then promptly pulls the covers over his head. 

“Why are you calling at 4am, _ Alexandra? _ ” His tone is somewhere between weary and cross, pointed, with a hefty dose of _ don’t even _ in the mix. No good reason for this. Nope. Sleep is paramount. 

-

From the other end of the line, she grins. “I thought I told you to call me Alex. It sounds so stiff when people say my full name.” Her laugh is bubbling, despite the annoyed man on the other end of the phone. “_Alexandra _ do this, _ Alexandra _ do that. It’s too stuck-up for me.” 

-

“You said ‘everyone else does.’ Doesn’t mean you like it.” He points out, not quite awake enough for it to pass for full-on snarky. The intention is there though. 

-

There’s another question on her mind; why _ had _ she called? Sure, it was because he wasn’t responding to her messages, but… it doesn’t really make sense. There’s a pause where Jonas can only hear the soft background noise of some game she’s been playing to kill time, and Alex’s breathing, little whistling sighs as she considers her options. There’s going with the creepy dreams thing, seeing as he was just asleep and might be more willing to talk. Or there’s just making up some random excuse about needing to talk. Then the lie will just get bigger. Ugh.

More shuffling, and a thud. “Oh, shoot-” It takes another minute for her to actually get back around to answering. Alex had been so dazed out that she’d lifted her head, and ended up dropping her phone. Because she really couldn’t be any more of an idiot than she’s already being. “Sorry, dropped you there for a second. Probably ‘cause I’m shaking from sleep deprivation. Off topic, anyways; reason I called is because you weren’t answering me. Also the dreams.”

-

It’s probably weird, that he doesn’t mind listening to her think. Her presence is almost… comforting? The harsh fuzz of fabric on microphone stops him from drifting off again. Once she’s back on the line he hums a vague acceptance of her apology. 

Right. Dreams. All of… that. Whatever it is. Whatever it means. “…Think I got your watchtower this time…” It’s basically a mumble, like he’s talking to himself. 

Jonas lets out a long breath. He’s silent for a second, but there’s a definite intention to say something, he’s just not sure what. Is now really the time to be talking about this? Then again, is there a better time? It’s not like he’ll be that much more coherent any other day. 

-

“Oh, hey! Maybe that proves we’re not-”

-

“…Get some sleep, Alexandra.” 

-

“-Wait what?” Alex glances down to her phone like she’s talking to the actual person, rather than a piece of metal and plastic and glass she’s holding in her hands. He gives her a snippet of something she’s seen before, a familiarity that both makes sense and doesn’t, then just tells her to go to sleep? Yeah no. “Jonas if you think I’m gonna pass out anytime soon, you are sorely mistaken my friend.”

-

He cuts his melodramatic groan short, tapering to a grumble as he remembers there are two other people trying to sleep in his house right now.

-

Instead, she takes to thinking out loud. It’s muddied along with video game music and the little clacks of her keyboard and mouse. “Like I was saying… If we’re dreaming about the same things, it might prove we’re not completely insane for just randomly meeting each other again. I mean, it can’t just be coincidence anymore. Watchtower for watchtower, weird ocean for weird ocean— that doesn’t just _ happen _ to people. Right?” Alex leans forward a bit, trying to get out of a trap in game, spam clicking until—

-

“Did _ I _ mention the ocean thing?” Jonas is rubbing at his eyes again, letting stars fill his vision as he listens to secondhand clicks and— 

-

Dead. “Ugh! God, that guy hacks, I’m fucking sure of it. Asshole. The respawn time is shit, too…”

-

He winces at her outburst, clicks down his headphone volume. “Look Alex, if we’re talking dreams then we’re talking dreams, but I’m not gonna stick around to listen to you fragging some dipshit online. Or getting fragged. Whatever.” Probably both, that’s kind of how PvP games go. “When the fuck do you sleep, anyway?” he asks irritably. Sundays are generally lax for him, as long as his mom doesn’t catch him too awake before church and ropes him into going. It’s usually a breakfast-at-11 sort of day, but that’s assuming he sleeps til 10. “How are you even alive at school?” 

-

Alex winces a bit at him, though she does log off the game. It might be rude. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Coffee. Just so much coffee, you wouldn’t even believe. Ren says I look like a zombie in the mornings. Hell, sometimes I don’t even sleep.” There’s still a fair bit of clunking and scuffling as she moves her computer off of the bed and settles under the covers for good this time, pillows sagging when she plops down onto them.

-

Once the sounds of settling have faded from her end, Jonas clicks back up the volume, rolling onto his stomach with a soft groan and bunching a pillow under his chin. “That’s not normal.” Then again, he has a feeling Alex isn’t particularly keen on normal. Blue hair, vaulting benches, calling up a guy at four in the morning… Normal doesn’t really seem her wheelhouse. 

-

“I think you mentioned something about a beach? Or a bonfire? It still reminds me of the island, but I’m not entirely sure.”

-

“Did I?” He’s skeptical. “I dunno. I mean, I feel like it’d be pretty creepy to share.” Because it is. Another sigh huffs into his pillow. “But yeah. The beach. The bonfire. The blue hair and all that.” 

Wait, shit, that was probably too much. He clears his throat and adds, a little louder, “So what’s this about an island?” Like she’s gonna forget he just casually mentioned dreaming about her. Well, maybe she’s distractible enough. He doubts it.

-

Alex, conveniently, forgets he made any mention of blue hair. Even though she’s pretty sure all of two people have this particular shade of the color. “Edwards Island. I used to go there a ton as a little kid, but when my parents split up, we never really went back. I think I recognize some of the scenery, but I’m not sure.”

There’s a lull in her voice for a moment, and she pulls her phone away to yawn, flicking her fingers over the comforter. “And you know the red jacket I’m always wearing? It’s not there. Instead it’s some, like— some green bomber, or something? I dunno types of fashion or whatever, but it definitely isn’t mine.” Alex snorts; “And it’s way too big on me.”

-

There she goes again. Sharing so much personal information. She’s like an open book. He goes looking for just a title and she gives him way more than he expected. Jonas can connect the dots well enough, based on the article about her brother’s death. That would be the cause of the split, probably. A reason why they wouldn’t be hyped for island trips, either. She yawns, and a few seconds later he’s caught it, too. “Fuck you, those are contagious,” he groans, before seized by another, and the need for a full-body stretch, toes hanging off the edge of the mattress as his joints crack and he lets out a long breath. “Shit.” 

He rolls back onto his back again. “Does the red one fit that much better?” Fingers are combing through his hair, scratching the back of his head, and the idea is playing at the corners of his mind. But no, it’s just a color. A pretty common color, all things considered. The red jacket is the notable one. Just about everyone and their dad has had an army jacket at some point in their lives, right? Just your standard coat. But it does occur to him that they’re already into fall and maybe he should break out his own.

-

She lets out a breathy kind of hum, shaking her head before remembering this is a phone conversation. Not a physical one. “Not really. Since Katie started it, I may as well finish; stole it from my brother a good while ago. Before everything happened.” Before she let him drown. Before Michael the All Star left their lives forever. But she tries not to focus on that. Instead, Alex just closes her eyes and breathes. That’s supposed to be a thing that helps, right? Deep breathing or something. 

“That’s all there is to it, though. I still get weird flashes or whatever. It’s like going into a mini coma, I guess. You don’t really know what’s going on, but it’s still going.” God, she’s actually tired. Then again, it’s creeping up around five, and she hadn’t slept last night either. 

Her phone is balanced on the side of her head, close to slipping off, but she just tips it back into place every so often. Even if Jonas is starting to hear the exhaustion in her voice. “But I get nightmares more often than I get dreams. Someone always saves me. Doesn’t make them any less terrifying.”

-

Without the computer games in the background, and the soft sounds of sleepiness invading her side of the call, it’s almost like… like a sleepover, kinda? His sleepover experience is limited, but he remembers lying in a sleeping bag on the floor of someone’s basement, talking in the dark to a friend splayed across a couch. It’s kinda like that. Maybe closer. Like she’s in the bed with- 

Heat creeps up his neck, and guilt into his stomach, and Jonas tries to ignore the way that train of thought is going. 

He swallows hard, refocusing on her words once she’s speaking again. 

She’s sharing _ so much. _ It feels like he should be saying more. But what is there to say? He’s a private person, for the most part. Better at listening that talking, really. “‘Saves you?’ What do you mean?” He should be telling her more, giving her something like she’s offering to him, but he keeps all of that sort of thing pretty close to the chest. 

-

“Uh… It follows the same general plot? I think.” Alex curls herself into a tight little ball, and then tucks her covers underneath her legs. It’s getting colder, and she never really preferred the winter, but she doesn’t really complain. “There’s something about glowing eyes and triangles, I’m not really myself— It’s weird. This is weird. It’s staticky and mind-churning or whatever you want to call it.”

She’s rambling, and tired, maybe a little bit punchy. But she’s still talking. “Someone always drags me out of it. A guy, I think, but that’s all I can really gather. Then it ends.” Alex yawns again. Slipping. She’s already half asleep, and slaps herself for a second to just wake up a bit.

-

“Hm.” They aren’t recent dreams, but he’s definitely imagined something with triangles before. Red eyes. Weird mumbling static. …Well shit, maybe he should’ve been exorcised, not rehabilitated. 

“I, uh…” Jonas’s voice is hoarse. He takes another breath, holds it for a long moment. She’s shared a lot. But if feels like he’s about to just drop a bombshell. Then again, can she possibly think he’s any crazier? It’s not that much weirder than sharing dreams, right? 

Okay, yes, it’s weirder but… Comm 101: it’s the foot-in-the-door thing. She accepted the dreams bit. The whole amnesia thing should be easier. Should be. 

“Um. I… Last spring, I kinda… well, I forgot. Like a bunch of stuff. I was having a lot of those dreams, I think, and was missing like… like a lot of memories. Like…” His throat is dry, and he swallows again. “…16, 18 months? Something like that?” She isn’t responding, so he just barrels on. “It was sudden, I guess, or that’s what they tell me, anyway. Just months of my life missing, and me babbling about— well, triangles were part of it, maybe. I need to find the notebooks.” He shifts onto his side again, pulling his feet back under the covers. “Maybe I can do that tomorrow…” The words are mostly muttered to himself. 

“Anyway.” She still hasn’t responded. “They thought it was maybe brain damage, or— or a psychotic break or something, except everything else was fine. Nothing really came along with it, just a lot of confusion and suddenly being even worse in class than I already was.” He’s maybe being a little harsh on himself. Once his mom’s treatment took a turn for the better he’d actually improved immensely at school. Weird how that happens. “I had to do some tutoring and some weird… I dunno, I guess it’s like physical therapy, but for your brain? …Just _ therapy, _ I guess. Cognitive therapy? I think they didn’t expect it to work as well as it did. It all came back in a few weeks, really. Maybe a month and a half. I didn’t walk with the rest of my class, but I still graduated.” 

His fingers are playing with the hem of his pillowcase. Silence. “…Alex?” No response. “Um… Are you… alive?”

-

It wasn’t that the words themselves put her to sleep as much as his voice. It wasn’t boring, but it was a drawl, something soft that made her think of the wind through trees. Jonas doesn’t earn a response from her, other than the odd mumble or two in her sleep, voice low and cooing. He can’t make out the words. Something something radio, something something Ren, and then Alex goes quiet again. 

She’d only caught about half of it before her exhaustion had gotten the better of her. Forgetting things last spring, thinking it was brain damage, but that was it. No connection just yet. Her phone falls back onto the pillows in front her again, and of course she doesn’t pick it up, but now Jonas can better hear her. Definitely asleep. Breathing almost too close to the receiver, shifting every so often, but definitely asleep.

-

…Right. Jonas lets out a slow sigh, then murmurs, “…No, I’m not offended that you fell asleep during my very personal story, thanks for asking.” But there’s a slight smirk on his lips as he shakes his head minutely, pulling his phone from under the pillow. He hesitates for a second. Nope, listening to someone sleep is just a bit too weird, even for him. “…Goodnight, Alex. You absolute lunatic.” And he hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: we've been working on bridging the time between those first several chapters we wrote and the bit that we skipped to, so gradually those pieces are coming together, meaning you all will hopefully have shorter jumps in time (though we do jump a bit, because I personally am of the mindset that if there's something you can't think of to write, write the part you're eager to get to, so there are some interlude-esque montage moments). There are still a few more chapters until we get to that sort of thing, though. 
> 
> My apologies in advance if chapters seem shorter than they should be. Generally our scene beats average about ten pages, so I chop those as chapters even if two could theoretically get mashed together (like this one and the last one), just cause I prefer a 3-5k chapter length myself. It also allows me to feel more comfortable updating more often (appx 1/week) even while we're in the midst of writing. But what do you think? Would you rather have longer chapters farther apart? I tend to be pleasantly surprised by the consistency of our 8-11 page scenes/scene beats, and try to keep chapter lengths under 14 pages on google docs when doing the dividing (which is how we ended up with shorter chapters these last two, because combining would've made them quite long, and it felt like a good division between texting and the call). Anyway, curious to know your thoughts, drop 'em in a comment.
> 
> -OWT


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

Monday Morning rolls back around again. Alex feels like a sleepwalker through most of her classes— Even with plenty of sleep Saturday, Sunday night was two hours of decent sleep filled with nightmares. Not a good mixture for learning. But she has a water bottle full of iced coffee and sheer force of will to get her through the day. Which is what she usually does. By the time seventh period rolls around, she’s pretty much crashed. Talking to Mrs. Long a bit has perked her up, but she’s still nodding off during notes.

Signal stations, radios, pools of brackish water. Submarines, stacked rocks, that green jacket. Alex manages not to jump when Mrs. Long calls her out of her stupor.

“Alex? Are you alright?”

“Oh— Yeah, no, I’m— I’m right as rain! Just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

-

Jonas had been focused on doing actual TA things, but her name pulls him from his concentration. As soon as he recognizes that fact, he immediately tries to hide it, because he was definitely getting a couple of odd looks from students at the beginning of class, and he’s decided it’s because of Alex’s stay on the couch Friday. It doesn’t feel like a horribly inaccurate assumption, either, because there’s at least one pair of eyes glancing back to him when Alex is called out. He looks back down to his work, tries to ignore heat creeping up the back of his neck. Puts on that indifferent face he’s become so good at. 

“Do you need to go to the nurse’s office? Or maybe the water fountain?”

…Is it that noticeable? Like… there were _ looks _ earlier. And he’s pretty sure he got a look when he showed up during fifth period, as well. _ This _ is why this was a bad idea. This was a horrible idea. Why had she sat down next to him? God, now there’s going to be suspicion and rumors and…

He can’t help it, his eyes wander off of the papers he’s grading again (and they’re actually kinda interesting papers, syllogisms are weirdly fun to grade), and they’re caught by the girl who sent Alex a note on Friday. She raises her eyebrows at him - a minute gesture, but a pretty clear indication of her curiosity. Aaaand he looks down again. Bad idea. All of this has been a bad idea. 

If they’re gonna communicate it should only be outside of school. Or only on days he’s not in class with her. All he can think about is the rumors that circulated around a super cute assistant teacher at his last school, and how there was enough suspicion that she was accused of sleeping with students just because some assholes purposefully monopolized her after school hours. And yeah, he’s not a teacher, but still. How creepy is it for a college student to date a highschooler. He’s only ever heard that it’s a creepy, desperate thing. 

Wait, they’re not dating. So that’s— it’s not— 

But if people _ think _ they’re dating—

They haven’t even texted that much since Saturday night! (Well, Sunday morning.) A brief mention that the dreams were… weird. Which— yeah. They were. They are. All kinds of weird. He’d hit up the community center gym Sunday (because you can’t get bugged about church if you aren’t there to bug; he knows this, he has a perfect schedule of sleeping through it and then avoiding his mom for the rest of the day until she forgets to guilt him about it. It’s been working for approximately a year now) and there had been a brief moment of weird vertigo in the pool, feeling deeper than he was, the light shifting green, a shadow in the distance, and he’d struggled to the surface to pant at the ladder until a lifeguard came to ask if he was alright.

Yeah. The dreams were weird.

-

For a second Alex just gnaws at the inside of her lip, before nodding. Water is probably a good idea. Even though it’s something she both hates, and needs to live. “Yeah. Maybe.” Mrs. Long is quick to head back to her desk and start writing a hall pass, while Alex starts moving her things around to actually stand up. Which may have been an absolutely, positively, terrible idea.

It starts with ringing. A high pitched whine in her left ear, like radio static, and she squeezes her eyes shut against it. Then her vision goes spotty, and she doesn’t know when exactly she ends up on the ground, but she’s definitely on the ground now. Hard linoleum flooring pressing cold through her jacket. To the rest of the class, it looks like she’s standing fine one second and crumpling into herself the next, breath shallow and shaky. Jonas’s mother lets out a noise of surprise, just staring at the scene for a half second, before looking over to Jess.

“Jess, go get the nurse please.”

-

Jonas’s hands have tightened around the papers, but he manages to keep himself from jumping to his feet. Just barely. It would just be weird _ not _ to stare, at this point, and there’s a mix of shocked silence and varying degrees of alarm from the rest of the class. He feels a muscle in his jaw tighten, pulse racing and breath tightening, because this feels familiar in a way he really doesn’t like, because that way reminds him of pages of handwritten notes from the spring, reviewed only yesterday after months forgotten. Minimal entries that eventually, once he’d been assured he wasn’t about to be committed for them, became more and more detailed, the margins filled with shitty doodles that he’s realized he still draws. Those radial hash marks. Radio signals. Triangles. 

And there was an entry like this. A classroom, and a body collapsed. A girl with eyes gone red, murmuring unintelligibly. 

Luckily there’s no red eyes or murmuring here. Not yet, anyway. 

Still, he’s staring with the rest of them, knuckles white and frozen to his seat. No wonder his mom had gone for a student to do the errand running. And a good choice too, she’s out of the classroom quickly, eager to help a friend.

She’s on her way to the back of the class, his mom is, with that no-nonsense look she gets. “Excuse me.” Desks are moved out of her way as she comes to Alex’s side, taking her wrist for a moment and tracking a pulse, checking her breathing. She pulls Alex’s bookbag from her desk and props the girl’s feet up on it. 

“Is she-” Whoever spoke goes quiet before Jonas can spot who it was. His mom doesn’t even look around to check. 

She briefly touches at the back of Alex’s head, then squeezes her hand, taps her shoulder gently. “Alex, are you alright?” How she manages to sound so calm is anyone’s guess.

“Mrs. Long-”

“She’ll be fine, she just fainted.” It’s not dismissive, but her tone is relaxed enough that she manages to cut some of the tension in the room. “It happens. Kind of scary to see, but it’s not the end of the world.” He’s not sure if she’s faking her casual demeanor for the benefits of her students or if she really is that confident in her assessment. And if _ he _ can’t tell, that bodes well for the rest of the class. 

Alex starts to stir. 

His mom glances right at Jonas. “Can I have your water bottle, please?” 

He’s dumbfounded for a second, but then snaps out of it, reaching for the bottle lodged in the corner of his bag and passing it over. 

She looks down at Alex and cracks a smile at her as she opens the water bottle, setting it aside. “Welcome back. You’re gonna be okay, you just fell down and bumped your head. Got a standard pop quiz for you, Alex: you know what year it is? Who the president is?”

-

For a minute, Alex has no idea what’s going on. She remembers standing, and then cold, and now Mrs. Long is sitting by her and the whole class is staring— Questions. Okay, she can do questions. The first one is easy, though the second she answers with a soft kind of snort. “Bold of you to assume I care about the presidency.”

It seems to ease some of the tension in her classmates, one letting out a nervous laugh as they glance over. Mrs. Long lets out a tutting noise, though she’s smiling now, rolling her eyes as Alex tries to sit herself up onto her forearms. Why are her feet propped up? Did she just trip over her backpack, or…? This is weird. She’s missing some things. But that’s probably because of the whole not sleeping thing. There’s a part of her that wants to ask what happened, what’s going on, but from the way everyone’s looking at her it might not be the right choice. So instead she tries glancing around. 

First to see if Jess is there - which she isn’t, probably because Mrs. Long had asked her to do something - then to the whiteboard, then her teacher, still trying to blink spots out of her eyes. This kind of sucks. No, not even kind of. This sucks. 

-

“You might not want to stand just yet,” his mom is smiling, with a slight rueful tinge because Jonas realizes she knows full well that that’s just how Alex _ is, _ already wanting to be on her feet even if the smart thing to do is to stay down. “You’re gonna just kick back and relax here for a minute, hm? Feet up, it’s good for the circulation.” She pats the backpack with an air of finality before standing and heading back to the front of the room. 

-

“Oh no, what a nightmare!” This was already a nightmare, but hey. Not like she has much left to lose. 

-

Like Alex is gonna stay stretched out on the floor with her classmates looking on. 

“She can have the couch. If that’s better.”

-

When Jonas offers up his couch, the attention is momentarily drawn off of Alex and onto him, her own eyes flicking over for a second before she offers up a shrug. 

-

Shit. He probably shouldn’t have offered. But his mom is giving him a smile - with that tiny touch of pride like hey, she raised her kid right - and nodding. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Jonas, thank you.” She glances to Alex again. “Take your time. Enjoy the thrilling experience of having everyone treat you like you’re made of glass.” There’s a teasing lilt to her smile. She had too much of that, in her time. Jonas remembers it well enough. It had frustrated her to no end. 

He clears off his papers, moving them to a spare chair in the back corner, as quietly as he can manage as his mother passes out a worksheet comparing one play to another. The girl she’d sent to the nurse arrives back, nurse-less, just as the phone on her desk rings, and she answers quietly, glancing at the back of the class. “She’s alright. I’ll send her down when she’s feeling up to it.”

Jonas looks back at Alex, hesitantly. Is he… supposed to help her? 

-

After a few minutes, Alex manages to tug herself up into a sitting position without getting another head rush, rolling out her shoulders before starting to stand. She stumbles once, but she’s alright. At least she thinks she’s alright. Those flashes are still in the back of her head. Green jacket, red eyes, brown hair— different little ticks she doesn’t understand. Something about a chair? A stupid chair? Ow. Ow, ow, that’s a migraine. 

Apparently she’s still not all that up to moving. Maybe it’s because she gets a red-green ring around the edge of her vision, or maybe because for a moment it looks like the white board is playing hangman, but it definitely doesn’t do anything good for her. The scratching of chalk, the world turned upside down, Clarissa… Clarissa? Alex trips on her own two feet again and has to grab onto something so she doesn’t take another spill right after recovering from her first one. That something ends up being Jonas’s forearms. 

To be honest she doesn’t really care. Her head is screaming at her, and nothing really makes sense, but that’s been her life for the last year and a half or so. A bunch of different coincidences and situations that just don’t make sense. Alex mutters curses under her breath, and tries again to keep her vision intact. 

-

There is very little that can be done to stop gossip if the girl you’re worried you’ve been linked to in rumors is literally _ falling into your arms. _ Jonas frowns. Well. Might as well. His expression is grimly resigned, and not at all amused, face stoic despite the pink coloring his ears. 

She’s doing her little swoony bit, so he hooks an arm around back of her knees and picks her up for the last few feet to the couch, setting her down with little to no ceremony, and thrusting the water bottle into her hands before stepping away to the other corner to return to his work. Professional. Nothing more than that. 

And he will pointedly ignore her for the rest of the class. That’s a promise he’s making to himself, because socially this whole thing is too stressful. He slips back on that distant, apathetic guise, shedding his previous concern, and listens to the steady scratch of pens on paper as the rest of the students complete their classwork. He makes a concentrated effort not to turn to look at Alex.

-

Okay? Okay, that was— That had been a thing. Instead of saying anything, Alex makes the pointed choice to close her eyes and try to think of something other than vague bits and pieces. Maybe food? Strawberries would be good right now. Ren had invited her over to his house later, but considering how she’s just fainted, that probably isn’t going to happen. She’s still holding onto the stupid water bottle. 

After about five more minutes of just laying there, Alex can’t take it anymore. She needs an out. To go running, maybe, but that’ll have to be when she isn’t in danger of just randomly falling. How long has it been since she last fainted? A year or so? Something like that. So she takes a swig of the water, kicks her legs over the side of the couch, and starts for the nurses office. Mrs. Long warns her to take someone else, just in case she has another spell, and after a withering look to the ground Alex picks Jess.

The two walk side by side in silence, for a while. Then her friend breaks it. “So… he was pretty cool back there, huh?”

“Who was?”

“Y’know. The TA.” Jonas. Didn’t _ anyone _ know his actual name?

-

Jonas is maybe too focused on his work. Not focused enough. But also… too focused. He’s practically glaring at the papers until she leaves, and has to keep rereading them. Finally, once she’s out of the room, things get a little easier. He remembers that he was actually enjoying this until she went scaring the crap out of him with her fainting spell. With third period (one of the classes he never actually sees) graded and out of the way, he hesitates before moving on to fifth. 

His mother is immersed in rereading something or other, probably reviewing whatever she’s about to talk about, who knows, he’s not a teacher, the point is: she’s distracted. Enough. And, he reminds himself, he’s not actually a student here. If he wants to have his cell phone out… there probably isn’t actually a rule preventing him? Probably?

Regardless, it’s on do not disturb and he hides it in the shadow of his arm as he types out a quick text. 

Alex Strickland  
  
You okay?  
  


There isn’t a response. But that’s to be expected, it’s still school hours, and even without being a student he’s heard the rumors of some pretty harsh teachers that very nearly cross the line on property confiscation. It’s fair she wouldn’t want to risk needing her mom called in to check back out her cell from some extra-strict teacher. Whatever. She’ll respond later. 

Another few minutes and the door pushes open and Jess shoots Mrs. Long a thumbs up, and Jonas feels a knot he hadn’t realized was forming loosen a bit. He watches the girl for a second too long, and she catches his eye before he looks away again, tucking his phone back into his pocket. The next glance he shoots is more surreptitious, but just in time, as he spots the changing hands of a note. 

Seriously, did people pass this many notes at North Valley? Well, no, but there was a lot more texting in class. And carving into the desks. And just… well, just ignoring the teachers, really. …Wow, they were kind of the worst, weren’t they? Compared to his peers at NVHS, this class was practically angelic. 

Jonas’s eyes narrow for a fraction of a second on the note being passed. Feels less than angelic. Despite the small upturned lips from Jess when she catches his eye again.

Finally, he gets himself to look away for good. Only fifteen more minutes of this. Then he can wait for the students to file out, make his excuses to his mom, and slip out amid the crowded masses.


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

It isn’t until school is out that Alex manages to text him back. She’s a bit early walking out of the office to get her stuff, but once the bell rings it’s the usual stream of people bursting into the halls with chatter and the clang of locker doors. Jess had stayed behind a bit, helping her with her things before having to sprint off to the parking lot, and Alex starts back home again. 

Mystery TA Man Jonas   
  
Sorry.   
  
For all that.

The odd thing is how her tone has shifted from the last time they were talking. It’s not hesitant, but it certainly isn’t positive, either. She still has those images in her head. Clarissa going out a window, sitting on a street lamp, those red eyes— Alex has seen them somewhere before. She knows she has. Some shitty horror maybe, or in other tidbits, but it feels so wrong. So alien. Which makes sense, considering eyes aren’t supposed to be red. Since when are human eyes red? Ugh, she’s overthinking this again. 

-

Jonas isn’t sure why he feels the need to excuse himself early from his volunteer duties - or make excuses at all - but he does anyway. His head is down as he walks the halls toward the parking lot, scrolling through his phone. The message from Alex pops up just as he’s exiting the building. 

Alex Strickland   
  
?   
  
You're okay tho?

Why would she need to apologize? He’s seen people faint before, that looked pretty legit, he thinks he’d know if she were faking-

“It’s Jonas, right?”

Whatsername. Jess. Standing right in his path. 

Oh God. This again? How much he’d prefer to just stay Mystery TA Man. But his mom had flat out said it not even an hour ago, for the whole class to hear. “…Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate. 

Her hands are shoved in her pockets as she rocks forward and back on her feet, briefly swaying into his personal space, making him stiffen and step back, warily. “So how do you know Alex?”

_ Who? _ The response is on the tip of his tongue - a flat and boldfaced deception - before he stops himself. Wait, no, her name was used, too. Can’t use that lie. “I don’t.” 

Jess’s lips quirk in that smile she’d given him earlier, when he’d caught her passing the note. “Awfully nice of you to sweep her off her feet, then.”

His fingers tighten into a fist before he forces them relaxed again, eyes darting away even as his irritation is evident. “That’s— not what happened.”

“What, you saving her?”

“That’s _ definitely _ not what happened.” How the hell does she figure that? 

“It’s not?” Oh God, she’s one of _ those. _ She has that little almost-victorious smile, like she knows she’s pushing the right buttons. And he’s just paranoid enough to worry she is, though he has no idea what she’s aiming at. 

“She fell into me.”

“Into your waiting arms?”

His ire is rising. “Look, I didn’t want anyone hurt.”

“Especially Alex.”

“_Anyone._” 

“Alright, alright, I concede. You don’t want _ anyone _ hurt.” For a minute, it looks like Jess is backing off. But she’s still smiling, as she rocks herself back and forth, letting the silence fester. “Took the extra time to pick her up, though.”

He’s not gonna pretend _ not _ to be annoyed. “Look, is there a point you’re getting at, here? Christ, since when does a guy get grilled for doing a good deed,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes, not _ quite _ rude enough to just push past her. 

She rolls her eyes a bit, “I’m not grilling you for helping her! Look, I was worried about her, too. I’ve been her friend since middle school, and seeing her just dip out like that was kind of freaky. But no one just offers up a designated seat and picks someone up without at least knowing them a little first.”

“It’s not a _ designated seat_, I’m not even-” _ Not even a real TA. _ “-It’s just where I sit, it’s not a _ thing_, you’re trying to make it a _ thing_.” 

“I mean. It kind of is? Look— I’ll leave, and you can forget about this, but I’m sure someone else is gonna ask tomorrow.” 

His patience is running dangerously thin. He straightens his back, taking a step into her space with as much intimidation as he can muster. “And I’ll tell them what I told you.” The heat of his anger cools to a hard chill. “I was being a decent human being. It’s not my fault none of you twerps stepped up.”

Her lower lip presses out a bit, almost a line, and she takes a step back. After a good minute of staring each other down, Jess tosses her hands to the air, and starts walking away. “Alright. I’ll let you deal with the masses. Don’t come crying to me when the shit starts flying.”

Jonas just barely stops himself from mimicking her to her back, instead rolling his eyes and continuing his path to his truck. He swipes open his phone again, texting one-handed. 

Alex Strickland   
  
Ran into Jess   
  
That girl’s a fuckin peach   
  
Kill me.

-

Walking home isn’t great, but she’s used to it. Been doing it ever since middle school. Usually, Ren gets picked up, and Nona takes the bus; which means she’s on her own for the roughly 20-25 minute span of time to just… pip around on her phone or something. When she gets the notification from Jonas, Alex doesn’t really want to answer. But he’s worried, and Jess probably got in his face, so. May as well.

Mystery TA Man Jonas   
  
Sorry about her, too.   
  
She doesn’t really know when to quit, in case you didn’t notice.   
  
Physically, I’m alright, I guess. Walking home.   
  
Mentally not so much.

Then again, when is she ever mentally sound? Alex never reaches out to her mother, she’s the formal, logical one of the two. They’ve always butted heads. Almost even more than her parents did, when she hit puberty. Usually she’d go to her dad, but… he isn’t here anymore. Alex’s jaw tightens. Sure, he’s just a text message away, even if he is in another town. This isn’t something she’d go to him for anyways. 

Her hands are still shaking as she texts again.

-

Walking? Jonas frowns down at his phone. The truck roars to life in all its ancient glory, the parking gear clunked into drive, gear shift as sticky as always, despite being an automatic. A real piece of shit. But he loves it anyway. Hence the name. Bily. Short for POSBILY. Piece of shit. But I love you. To his mom, this is simplified to Bily. His dad knows the truth of it. 

He shouldn’t be checking his phone while driving, but he can’t help his curiosity, glancing down as it buzzes on the passenger seat. 

Alex Strickland   
  
Scratch that. Physically I probably need way more sleep than I’m getting.   
  
But I don’t want to go to bed.   
  
And that’s not just my weird brand of insomnia.

Christ, is he really…? 

Jonas sighs. Yeah, he is. 

They live in the same neighborhood, it’s the same way home. She’s only a few minutes ahead of him, after all of it. The pickup slows and he leans across (one of the benefits of a large wingspan) to pop the door open. 

“Get in, loser, I’m saving your life again.”

-

Alex jumps a bit when she hears him yelling at her, but she’s paused on the sidewalk, staring at Jonas like he’s just asked her to jump off a bridge. There’s two options she’s presented with. One, keep walking, and risk both fainting again and not getting home alright. Two, get in the car and deal with the guy who’s been both keeping her in check and not doing that at all. After considering her options, she just shakes her head, climbing into the passenger seat of the truck and closing the door behind her.

“And you call _ me _ insane. I was just walking, Jonas, it’s not like I’ll die.” Sure, fainting about a half hour beforehand probably wasn’t good, but she’s fine. It’s all fine. She glances around the interior, not exactly keeping her eyes off of Jonas, but wanting to figure out what his endgame will be. “Nice truck, though.”

It’s cool in a piece of shit kind of way. But she likes that. It’s like why Alex never wears the fancy dresses her mom gets for her, or the button ups, or the heels. Heels are the wrath of God upon this great green earth.

-

“Thanks.” His wry tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe her, but he’s not about to argue because it’s perfectly fine for him, regardless of her feelings on the matter. As soon as she’s settled in, Jonas pulls back out into the road. 

“I’m not saying you’ll die. I’m saying you’ll crack your head open in the pavement and endure extensive pain and suffering, eventually becoming a vegetable. So here I am. Saving you from a life of blinking your words one letter at a time.” The whole truck hums, as it does, a steady vibration. He glances over at her, at the bags bruised under her eyes, the sheer weariness seeping out of her. “Christ, Alex, take a nap. It’s like a fifteen minute drive. You look like you need every second you can get.”

-

Okay, that’s probably dipping into the extreme level of the pool, but she isn’t going to call him out on it. Because he’s right, in a way; she shouldn’t really be walking alone just after fainting. But she also doesn’t like the idea of just going to sleep in someone’s pickup. Even if it is comfortable. And kind of rocking. And now she’s yawning, and god damn it she does _ not _want to go to sleep. Nope. Not today.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. If it’s a fifteen minute drive, it won’t be worth the trouble.” She doesn’t want to see whatever her dreams have in store for her again. “I can just cycle reset myself, y’know? Wait until a decent time to go to bed and then pass out, wake up refreshed or whatever.” That’s a kind of sound argument. A mostly sound argument.

Back to fiddling with her phone to try and keep herself awake. With Ren doing his own thing, Nona keeping away from her own device to get work done, and her mom still at work, there isn’t much to do. Which means there isn’t much helping her get any less tired. And she ran out of coffee a little bit ago.

-

The words are hardly out of her mouth before Jonas snorts. “Suuure, ‘cycle reset.’ Says the girl calling at 4am while _ pwning teh n00bs _ on the interwebs.” It doesn’t take a mind reader to guess that wasn’t a first-time occurrence. 

He shoots a glance over at her, lips hooked in a grim smile. “Well you managed to pass out on me once, what was the secret there?” He’s not about to abduct her or anything, but he does turn to go down the scenic route, silently adding another five minutes to their trip. “Do I just have to start droning on about very personal stories that I don’t tell anyone in order to put you out?”

-

Internally, Alex cringes at his words, though she manages not to make some kind of stupid quip back at him. “Look, I didn’t mean to fall asleep when you were talking! It just kinda… happened, I guess. So, sorry about that.” Man she’s apologizing a lot today. Then again, it’s also for things she did two days before, which has to count for something. “I didn’t mean to pass out, either. Though I feel like that should be obvious. You can clearly tell there is something wrong.”

Everyone else can, too, but she doesn’t say that. Instead she settles herself further into the passenger seat, gives up on trying to use her phone as a distraction, and instead focuses on Jonas. Maybe if he keeps her talking, Alex won’t fall asleep. But he’s probably thought of that already. And— that’s another thing; since when did he start caring about her sleep cycle? Or how healthy she is?

-

“Yeah. Something that could definitely be helped with a bit of rest.” Sleep, food, basic hygiene. Things that could help anyone feel more human. He adds in another wrong turn, looping back on himself. “If we’re both stuck with this whole dream thing, the least I can do is help, right?” 

-

She shoots him a look of annoyance. Alex is being kind of like a petulant kid, sure, but she doesn’t want to go to sleep. Weird shit happens when she goes to sleep. The only time it hasn’t happened is when— Oh. Oh, that’s a theory.

When she called Jonas, she hadn’t gotten any odd dreams. Or, less than her normal odd. The nightmare ones. “Fine. Whatever. I will go to bed. But_ only _ because you made a deliberate wrong turn back there to make the ride longer.” She curls her legs up onto the seat, crosses her arms over her chest, and closes her eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that, I know my own way home.” A pause. “Thank you.”

The truck keeps rattling along, and she has the afterthought to undo her ponytail, teal hair crimped a bit from the hair tie falling back onto her shoulders. Alex, for someone so loud when talking, is oddly quiet now. Her head rests on the window, jostling every so often, but it doesn’t bother her. 

-

Jonas attempts to hide his not-quite-smug smirk, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he winds his way further into the quieter half of suburbia. “Thanks for the pity nap, princess.” It’s a low, sarcastic drawl— though sincere enough in its sentiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit later than usual, mostly cause writing has slowed down, but there's still some in reserve (we have I think 13 consecutive chapters written for this so far?) so they'll get posted even as we work on things. Winter makes me sad and sluggish, so my apologies. Thanks for stickin' around to keep an eye on these two dorks. ❤  
-OWT
> 
> (also, fun fact, we keep referencing 'get in loser I'm saving your life again' while playing video games)


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

Every turn he makes is the opposite direction of any groups of people. He manages to guide them, somehow, toward a deserted housing development. Maybe the money ran out, maybe the crew’s on strike, maybe they just don’t work Mondays - whatever it is, it’s abandoned. One show house, a bunch of empty lots, and two projects mid-construction. The important thing is no teens getting out of class, no parents on their way to pick up younger kids, no suburban wives jogging their little dogs around the block. 

He does a couple circuits of the empty neighborhood, trying to determine exactly how creepy this behavior is. Probably very? It makes sense, in an odd way, but that’s just ‘cause… well, ‘cause it’s her. She’s already mostly insane, he’s just… matching it. And it’s kinda a relief, to be honest. Whatever their deal is, she’s about as open and honest as she can get, and he’s just trying to keep up. Even if openness isn’t exactly his forte. 

It’s midway through the third round of lot-lot-lot-house-construction that he cracks a small smile, realizing why this idea had popped into his head in the first place. Stories from his mom, talking about how for a solid half a year as a baby Jonas was impossible to put to sleep unless he was driven around for a minimum of eight minutes. After that he was an angel, apparently (though he can never really take his mom’s word on stuff like that), but the car was the key to happy sleep. _ “We paid for your gas then, you have to help pay for it now.” _ That had been the whole context of the conversation. Speaking of which…

The fuel gauge says a quarter tank, and that’s plenty to get back and forth to school a few times, but if this is gonna become a regular occurrence he’s gonna have to preserve what he can. And maybe pick up some more odd jobs. Jonas pulls the truck to the side of the road in front of the shell of a house, shifting into park and then turning off the engine. Curious eyes flick over to the blue-haired girl asleep in his passenger seat. A _ regular occurrence?_ Why should it become a regular occurrence? 

Yeah, no, more of this whole ‘watching her sleep’ deal - too weird, not gonna happen. 

He pops open the driver side door, pauses for a second. The phone in his pocket had buzzed a couple times on their drive. He checks it. 4:08. He glances back to Alex. Dismisses the calendar reminders for his 4:30 class. And hey, fuck it - if he’s already behaving badly… He reaches into the backpack lodged between them, worming his fingers past the loose papers and pens and crushed syllabi to pluck out the pack of cigarettes stashed under it all. Might as well. 

Jumping down from the cab, he plucks a smoke from the pack, before slipping the rest into his back pocket, digging for his lighter. His eyes wander the construction site, and he kicks up a bit of dust as he heads for the scaffolding. He spends a few minutes wandering the unfinished house, scuffing his feet against temporary flooring and trying not to fall down open stairways. It takes some careful maneuvering with a cigarette held precariously between tight lips, but he manages to get up into the attic, where the roof is still unfinished. This would be miserable in the rain. For now it’s nice, though. 

He perches on the junction of roof and scaffold, perilously balanced, until he’s done smoking, then stubs the butt out on the nearest rafter before flicking it out toward an empty pool basin in the backyard. For a long minute he just taps his fingers against the aluminum scaffold, then finally takes in a long breath and begins to climb down.

-

It starts out fine. It starts out normal, almost, when she drifts into unconsciousness. But she still doesn’t understand the context. Ren, Nona, Clarissa and herself are playing truth or slap. They’re on the beach at Edwards Island. Just some dream she conjured up for herself using faces she knows, places she recognizes. Easy. There’s someone in the back, too - an imposing figure leaned against the fence to the caves. His face is tipped toward the ground, enough to show some features, but not enough to put a name to a person. Cut jaw, broad shoulders, green jacket. 

There isn’t any sound. It’s the first thing that tips Alex off. People are talking, she’s talking, but there isn’t any sound coming from anywhere. She does her best not to panic. Not to let people know about it. She glances around the fire again. Her friends features have been replaced. They’re just— they’re just bodies, all staring at her, except for one. The taller boy in the back. Alex jumps onto her feet, runs, tries to get away, and finds herself wading into water.

But she’d been on the beach just before. She’d been running toward the caves, why was she wading out into— into a river? No. Into the ocean. Those nameless, faceless figures that used to be her friends, all stare. All watch. They do nothing to help. She keeps running. It shouldn’t be possible, for her to run like she does underwater, but this is a dream. What is there to be explained? Alex’s vision blacks out, and then she’s completely submerged, stuck with her boots half buried in the sand.

A submarine rests just behind her, split in two, and now she hears it. A whine that turns into screaming, as she tips her head toward the surface, only to see a triangle. It’s sides move like sound waves, jostling with each pitchy wail, and she drops onto her knees. Still staring. There isn’t a way for her to speak. She opens her mouth, takes a breath, screams, makes no noise. Another breath, another attempt, and nothing. _ Nothing. _ That’s what this is. A pocket of nothing, that is nowhere, and will never be.

Something has its hand around her throat. Now Alex can’t breathe. She was before, she knows she was, but it isn’t working now. She can’t breathe. She is drowning. Lifted, weightless in the water, and the pressure builds in her head. No movement. No air. All pressure and hard grips and evil. Inhale salt and brine, try to exhale, only take in more. Her eyes burn, but they’re still open, and she spots the boy again. He’s looking up at her in horror. It’s Jonas. 

This time, when she screams, Alex jolts herself awake. It’s wordless, and it comes out wrong, strangled with the fear that whatever had a hold of her in that nightmare still does. She undoes her seat belt with shaking hands, and keels over onto the dashboard, head pressed against the surface as her eyes squeeze shut. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. 

-

Jonas is almost back to the truck when he hears a restless shifting. Brow furrowed, he ups his pace, watching the girl inside toss and turn, warily. He’s halfway around to her side already when she rockets into wakefulness, a frenzied amalgamation of noises practically pulled from her throat. He doesn’t even think about it, about how maybe kind of _ horribly creepy _ it is, the whole sudden screaming, just wrenches the passenger side door open, eyes wide. 

“Alex—” He’s got a hand on the first thing he can reach - her knee - and then he’s clapped a grip on her shoulder. “Are you— are you hurt? What-” He pulls his hands away quickly, takes a step back, letting air move through the two open doors, give her some breathing room. “What happened?”

-

Alex nearly kicks him before he’s pulled away, striking blind at something that isn’t there, shotgunning back into a sitting position to see who was touching her. And it’s just Jonas. It’s just Jonas, she doesn’t know why she was so scared when it’s just Jonas, but— it’s probably her own vision playing tricks on her. That’s what she wants to chalk it up to, when she stares at him and his eyes are red, and she screams again, backs into the truck as far as she can. 

She covers her face again. It’s not real, and she keeps telling herself that over and over again, but it’s still there. It’s still there and she can’t understand why. Her shaking only worsens, but she tries talking. “Night- nightmare-” The weird dreams. The ones she’s been trying to escape. “Why, I— I di-” 

-

Jonas lifts his hands, backing away. “Just— just calm down, Alex, I’m not— you’re okay.” Since when is his heart in his throat? There’s an anxiety beginning to gnaw away at the pit of his stomach, and it takes him a moment to realize why. He’s had… _ visions_, for lack of a better word. _ This _ is so much worse. 

And, of course, in comes the guilt. Because the fear isn’t for her, not like it should be; it’s for himself. So he reminds himself that nightmares aren’t contagious, that being scared of her isn’t helpful to either of them, and takes a tentative half step forward, keeping at an angle, leaving a visible exit. He’s not gonna crowd her, not when she’s already looking like a cornered rabbit, ready to bolt. “Do you… Can I do anything?” 

-

She wants to be sarcastic. She wants to act like nothing even happened, but that’s not an option now, because Jonas is freaking out, and she’s freaking out, and— Shit. Just… shit. Alex shouldn’t be this terrified of something that probably doesn’t even exist. Some conjuration her mind made to scare her. But she’s been getting them every night. Her head shakes, jerkily, and she stills.

“This-” Her voice is shaking, and she loathes that it is, because this should be simple. When she was younger, she’d shrug these things off like they were nothing. Now she’s petrified. “This is why I— I haven’t been-” _ Sleeping. _ She can’t finish the sentence, Alex has to take in a sharp breath, just to remain something like composed.

-

Jonas takes a deep breath through his nose, lets it out slowly. Calm. Everything will be easier if they just… breathe. Take it one thing at a time. Put things in perspective. One bad dream. Or more, even, either way: dreams. She’s not hurt, just scared. Things will be okay. At least… at least, he can think that. His posture relaxes a bit, holding on to the car door. Silence hangs in the air for a moment, giving them both some breathing room. 

When he finally does talk, he’s trained his voice to something low and even. “You slept for a while, actually. Pretty soundly, it seemed like, for maybe-” he tries to do some math in his head, and settles on an estimation, “-forty minutes? Ish? And then when I came back you just… I don’t know.” It’s completely irrational, he knows, but a tiny part of him suggests that this is karmic retribution for smoking, and he quickly stomps that bit away. Smoking’s not a sin, not really. Still, there’s a bit of guilt for leaving her. 

-

Alex shrugs a bit, scrubs her hands at her face, and finally lifts her head again. She’s quieter, now, but she’s still panicking. Even if internally. Sleeping for forty minutes and being fine must’ve been when he was in the car. Explains why he didn’t just lean over and wake her up if she started freaking out in his passenger seat. So… he’d left. Why does that thought hurt so much? Jonas leaving. She’s known him for a week or so, there isn’t any huge thing about it, but an unexplained absence doesn’t make her feel any better.

It confirms a bit of her theory, though. He stopped the nightmares. If only for a bit. Maybe they’d come back while he was still there, and she hadn’t realized, and maybe it was only a placebo, but they weren’t there. For a while. Alex pinches the bridge of her nose, other hand on the seat, and just stays still. Tries not to think about it. Her eyes are burning again, but for an entirely different reason than getting dunked underneath the waves. She’s crying. “Ugh— God, not… _Nhh._”

-

Shit. _ Shit shit shit shit shit, _ what did he say? “I’m sorry?” It’s not meant to be a question, but he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for, and his uncertainty seems to bleed into his tone. “Are— um—” How the hell does one respond to such a thing? She’s vaguely coherent, though, and seems to be less than thrilled about her own state. Which is… promising? In a weird way. That she’s aware of it, at least, and not trying to double down on the tears.

Jonas starts to reach for her again, then hesitates. Last time he even got close she skittered away. Maybe better to get the go-ahead. “Can I…” Yikes. Feels a little weird, asking to touch her, even just to comfort her. Instead, he makes the offer, in a sort of lame mumble. “Do you… want a hug?” The answer is probably no. She doesn’t seem keen on contact at the moment. He’s just not sure what else to do.

-

“You,” Her voice starts off better than it ends up. “Are so— so lame.” She’s the one crying right now, but hey. Alex can say whatever the hell she wants, as long as she doesn’t show any more weakness. Which is exactly what she’s about to do. Again. This is so stupid. Double layered and really, really stupid. She has to convince herself that his eyes aren’t about to go red again, that he isn’t whatever that thing was, before she scoots across the cab again and wraps her arms around his shoulders.

It’s a little awkward, but for some reason, it makes her feel better. Of course she’s not exactly touch-starved or anything— she gets hugs from her parents. This is just… kind of not that. A parental figure trying to figure out what to do, or make up from a fight, or something. It’s not _ demanding _ of her. Which, considering the situation, is better than she’d been before. Even if she’s still kind of crying. That needs to stop. 

-

Jonas manages a crooked smile - verging into smirk territory - at the insult, glad she’s present enough to be picking on him. He’s almost taken by surprise when she takes him up on the offer, but the movement is made with a stubborn decidedness that feels par for the course with Alex. Even if she’s not sold on the idea, she goes into it with a certain level of resolve. 

It’s— Well, they haven’t really touched much before. And this is… a lot, he realizes. Fully chest-to-chest. But if she’s going all in, so will he. It’s awkward for a second, putting his arms around her - just ‘cause she’s sort of stiff, and compared to her his arms practically swallow her up. But he’s gonna give her the best goddamn hug of her life because there’s nothing else he really feels capable of doing for her in the moment, and she probably needs this more than she realizes. 

With him standing outside and her sitting in the pickup they’re just about level. He adjusts his hold, and she slides a little closer across the beat-up leather seat, engulfed as he ducks his head beside hers. He isn’t usually one for hugging. He’s not a causal hugger, really. But a good hug, when it’s needed, is an intuitive thing. A nice firm touch - grounding, with a steady grip and the occasional back rub for comfort. He gives good hug. 

-

Why is he so tall? He’s too tall. It isn’t an observation she thought she’d be having, but that’s just where her head goes. A distraction from everything keeping her trapped in her mind. There’s something familiar about it, but she isn’t going to just… come out and say that. Because that would definitely be taken in a weird way. So instead she just tugs herself closer, wraps her legs around his waist, and stays there.

It’s something she’s done to nearly everyone. With Ren, with Nona, even some with her parents when she was younger. Just latching onto something and refusing to let go. Usually when she went to haunted houses. More often than not, it was Ren that was latching onto _ her. _ The thought manages to make Alex laugh, though it’s cut off, not really all there. Her fingers toy with his collar, and absentmindedly she butts her forehead against his chin. Another habit.

-

There is maybe some element of pride when she brings herself even closer - because, ha, yes, he was so incredibly right - even if Jonas feels something in his chest stutter for a second, there’s still a bit of a smirk growing. Her head’s against his chest, and he’s feeling maybe a little full of himself, but she’s playing with his collar and he wonders if she can feel the slight heat working its way over his skin. As Alex shifts to not-quite-nuzzle at him, he feels a little too much her breath on his neck. A brief moment of surprise makes him glance down for a second, only to glance away because a thought entered his mind that shouldn’t really be there while comforting someone. 

And then another. “I probably smell like cigarettes, sorry.” He doesn’t smoke regularly - not like he did when his mom was sick and he was maybe a little too eager for self-destruction - but he did _ just _ have one. He’ll have to air out his jacket before heading home, or his mom will be extra suspicious. 

He’ll also have to make sure he doesn’t head home too early, or it'll be obvious he’s skipped class. 

-

Alex just shrugs at him. “Never really cared about smelling smoke. Ren nearly always smells like one of his brownies, so nothing bothers me much.” That, and it’s distinctive. Something she can associate with him— and kind of blackmail that she would never use. Because that would probably get him in trouble with his mom. Then his mom would ask how she knew, and that’s something she’d very much like to avoid. 

For a long time after that, she’s quiet. Alex stopped crying after about a minute, but she doesn’t really want to pull away from him. Because she’s warm, and he’s comfortable. Which is kind of weird. When she does hug people, it’s usually quick, more like a grab before she starts moving on again. Movement is her thing. Running, drifting, wherever things take her. But here… here she doesn’t want to run. She had before, when things were still confusing, when she was panicking. Now she just wants to wait. To take a minute, and breathe.

-

Once she pauses for a second, and falls into weird companionable silence, face tucked low against his chest, Jonas adjusts his hold a little, rests his chin on top of her head. It’s nice to take a second to breathe. Even nicer now that’s she’s definitely not crying. His job is done here, but he doesn’t pull away. 

…Even when he starts to wonder if he’s really being as charitable as he initially intended. 

The silence gradually lets his mind wander, and it’s not wandering places it ought to. Instead, he’s too aware of how her body is pressed against him, legs wrapped around him, and how even with good intentions this would look pretty damning. And then he starts to think about earlier, and how he was legitimately very worried for her, and yet can’t help but regret swooping in to her rescue based on the reaction he garnered. Which is stupid. He shouldn’t regret that, it was the right thing to do. He’s just… self-conscious. 

-

“You’re too fuckin tall, you know that?” It’s the best thing she can think of to break the silence.

-

Her comment draws him out of his reverie, though, and he’s glad for it. 

“Yep. Long boys. Tall boys. You should meet my uncle, he’s like 6’6.” 

-

“Oh, Jesus. That’s insane. How does he walk under doorways without slamming his head onto them?” Probably ducking. But Jonas’s family is just insanely tall, for some reason. Or he’s just insanely tall. Mrs. Long is closer to her own height, anyways. “How do _ you _ walk under doorways without slamming into them?”

It’s a bit of a quip, and Alex chuckles slightly, only pulling her head out from underneath his own to offer a crooked smile. Her hair frames her face, and she remembers that stupid nickname Jonas had called her when they were texting again— Blue Curaçao. What is it, a liquor? Some kind of alcohol. She needs a nickname for him. Ren, she just uses his full name, and Nona has a multitude of them, but he doesn’t have one yet. ‘Mystery TA Man’ doesn’t really fit that mold anymore.

Rough and tumble aren’t the right words to describe her. Eyes still red and a little puffy from tears, a too-big jacket wrapped around her, and rumpled clothes from sleeping in a probably uncomfortable position. Alex looks oddly soft. That normally sharp smile of hers dimmed a bit, more genuine, still skewed. That’s the word. Soft.

-

He’s got a look of crooked amusement on his face, a brow raised at her question. “First of all; the average door frame offers plenty of leeway. Secondly; Christ, you should’ve seen me in middle school, I was all about the door frames. Honestly, through sophomore year, really. I once popped a ceiling tile loose in the hall when I was proving my jump height.” He was both embarrassed and weirdly proud of that odd achievement, despite the detention it earned him. 

And then he’s way too aware of how close she is.

Waaay too aware. 

But, well, it’s not like this is the first time he’s been close to a girl and starting thinking Thoughts. First time he’s done it with a girl - who’s not his girlfriend - having her legs around his waist, though. Jonas’s eyes slide away, clearing his throat. “Uncle Andy has it tough, though. He’s clear like 90% of the time, and then will end up miscalculating like 1%. The rest, he ducks just in case.” 

He should probably let go of her. Probably. Instead, he just loosens his hold a little. 

-

Alex winces a bit at the idea of slamming her head into things constantly, though she still gets a laugh out of it. “Ouch. At least they’re not falling flat on their faces when they fuck up a vault, though. Those can really damn your face for a while.” She should know. She’s done that a whole lot.

She doesn’t really do _ parkour, _ or whatever people want to call it, but she’s mapped her town. She knows all the escape routes, and what it takes to get through them. Well enough that by now she might be able to free-run through just about any part of it. Though if she moves somewhere else? Alex would have to take the time to map again, to work her way through the motions, understand whatever the zones have in store.

Then, she glances back past Jonas, and spots the unfinished houses. Perfect spot to run her problems away. Maybe he knows more about her than he thought. Alex moves herself back a bit, ruffles up his hair with both hands, and then lets go completely; sliding past to take off in a dead sprint toward the first house. 

-

Jonas is busy attempting to fix the mess she made of his hair, lips twisted in annoyance, when she bolts. He grabs for her collar and just misses, and doesn’t bother taking the time to roll his eyes, instead sprinting right after her. But Long boys have long Long legs, and Alex - though very good with what she has - does not, and Jonas comes up alongside and gets an arm around her waist, tackling her to the ground. 

“Okay, what the hell Alex.” He’s a little winded, more from the tackle than the sprint, and tries to shift his weight off of her. “You can’t be crying one minute and then take off toward potentially dangerous construction sites, that’s like—” He rolls himself over her, getting a hand in her collar to pin her down from running again. “—mixed messages. Or the same message.” He shakes his head, tries to clarify; “Look, I’m not inclined to let self-confessed _ exhausted _ sad girl who _ fainted earlier today _ out of my sight in a dangerous area with lots of pointy things and high ledges, okay?” Most of his tone is annoyed, but there’s a bit of anxiety as well. And maybe a tiny bit of amusement. Because of course she would. He’s rapidly learning more and more about Alex. Self-preservation is not her strong suit.

-

Ow. Fuck. Okay that’s a thing that just happened. And that’s the second time she’s had to think that today. “It’s— Ugh, okay, I’m not about to go kill myself or whatever,” Alex huffs out the words, glaring up at him with an almost petulant look on her face. “I was gonna _ run_. I do that, when I get freaked. I go out, and I run for an hour.” And it would probably have exhausted her more, which really wasn’t a good idea, so Jonas maybe has a point. Even though she’d rather not admit that. 

Despite getting the wind knocked out of her, Alex still tries to get a leg up, not to get out but just to have a point of leverage once she does try something. So instead she stares him down. 

If she had better forethought, she wouldn’t have done that. At all. Because he’s still really tall, and Alex usually doesn’t care what happens to her (which is admittedly probably a bad thing), but she’s kind of terrified. And kind of something she isn’t going to think about at all nope, no, not at all. Now she can’t tell if she’s flushed from the (rather brief) run and tackle, or the… the other thing.

-

He’s probably breathing harder than he should be. He _ feels _ like he shouldn’t be half-panting like he is. Jonas makes a conscious effort to feel like less of a creep, steadying his breathing through his nose, and is about to pull away, lean back on his knees, but she’s moving like she’s gonna roll out from under him. He has - unfortunately - been in this position before, for a very different reason. A much bloodier and less well-meaning reason, on the cement sidewalk outside NVHS. Leverage is key. 

Guilt and shame coil in the pit of his stomach, because he shouldn’t be treating her like some punk kid trading blows in a parking lot. 

So forget trying to go for strategy. This isn’t a fucking wrestling match. The end goal isn’t any kind of physical victory. 

“I’m not saying— I mean, not necessarily on purpose.” The idea maybe _ possibly _ could’ve entered his mind. He drops closer for a minute, rocking onto one forearm to free the other from around her, then pulls back more, focusing his hold on the excess fabric of the jacket rather than her waist. There’s a little more space between their chests this time. Now he can attribute the breathlessness to the maneuvering. “I just mean— You kinda seem the sort to rush into things without thinking, Alex.” The irony of his current situation is not lost on him. 

There’s a pause. He is very, _ very _ aware of their position. For a second his brow furrows, not from the argument, but from a moment of hesitation, studying her face. Then he lets go, pulls away, sitting back on his knees. “You know what, forget it. I just— I dunno. Sorry.”

-

She manages to roll her eyes at him, tugging herself up onto her forearms. “Look, if you think I’m gonna gut myself on some scraps or whatever, you can just supervise me. Like some weird nanny.” Alex nearly snorts at her own idiot self. After worming her way out from underneath him rather unceremoniously, she clears her throat a bit, rolling out her shoulders and brushing the dirt off of the jacket. “Supervisor Jonas.” Oh, hey, that’s an option. Maybe for when she does stupid shit.

But then again, she’s done a whole lot of stupid shit. Once she’s content that she’s at least a little cleaner, Alex starts for the buildings again, this time making sure to walk so that he isn’t scared of her just bolting. 

-

Jonas is sitting back, hands on thighs, mentally berating himself for being a dumb fucking cretin, a fucking fool, an absolute fucking buffoon, when the words hit him. “Right…” There’s a wry twist to his lips, ‘cause those words are ringing a bell somewhere in the back of his head, and the words come out deadpan; “_…Supervisor Jonas._” But she’s up and gone, and - despite himself, despite the thoughts that he should just leave her alone, stop being so close to her, stop trying to help her, stop trying to help her _ by _ being close to her - he’s scrambling up to follow after. 

-

The show house won’t give her anything to do other than maybe slide down a bannister, if it has any, but the half-built ones could give far more yield to her sprinting around and creating a kind of obstacle course for herself.

Oh, hey, maybe she should do that when she gets back. Instead of freaking her mom out by randomly going for runs at nearly 5 AM. Alex doesn’t look back to see if Jonas is following her. It’s kind of an assumption that he won’t let her do anything stupid.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you take me for someone who thinks at all. I haven’t had a single thought in my head since freshman year. That Guildenstern reading? Pure luck and speculation.” It hadn’t been. She knows it wasn’t. She knew what she was doing. A lot of the time, she knows what she’s doing, and she chooses to ignore it. Kind of like how Alex had known her mom would flip over her hair being blue, and did it anyways. Same difference with running through an abandoned building. “This head is empty.”

-

He highly doubts that, but he bites his tongue, as he catches up to Alex, lips hitching into a smirk despite himself. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen your work; can barely spell your own name. Shocked you made it this far, to be honest.” 

So they’ve settled back into this. Jonas can do that. Better than feeling whatever weird protective instinct he’s been having, that’s for sure. She just… He sighs as she monkeys her way up the scaffolding, heading for a second floor opening, and begins climbing up after her. She’s a stormchaser. Or maybe the storm. Whatever she is, it’s trouble. But for now, he’s along for the ride, whether he wants to be or not. Unfortunately, he thinks he might want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's sick? 
> 
> It's me, I'm sick, and not being particularly productive with the writing at the moment. Luckily we have maybe 100+ pages unposted between our different works, so I have plenty to edit in my down time, but I'm more tempted to just sleep more, when I can. If I can breathe well enough to sleep. Anyway, hope you enjoyed some feels. Wish me luck recovering from whatever is choking me constantly. -.-
> 
> -Turner


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

She convinces him to let her jump around for a good hour or more, Jonas following after her the entire time, being that ‘supervisor’ she’d started calling him, even if he mostly stays on the ground. Alex is having an absolute field day with it— figuring out different paths, berating him to time her with his phone to see how quickly she can run them, exuberant despite the fact that she probably shouldn’t be doing any of this. No one knows they’re here. If something happens to her, the responsibility would be on his shoulders. Maybe that’s why he’s so worried?

A part of her - not a guilty part, but a hesitant one - wants to think it’s something else. Something closer. The same kind of thing that might have made him hug her for just a bit too long. But that is, in his own words, pure speculation (or, at least, “conjecture”). It doesn’t stop her chest from tugging when she spots him smiling every so often, or rolling his eyes at some stupid quip she makes. Alex doesn’t quite understand why that hurts. 

At some point during her zipping through buildings and random wooden panels, her energy runs thin, and eventually both she and Jonas quietly make their way back to his truck.

-

She’s kind of exhausting. Running on sheer manic energy most of the time, or so it seems, and despite his better judgment Jonas had tried to keep up until he just gave in, spotting her instead. Alex was all about winding between supports and vaulting stacks of plywood, and he ended up with hands hooked over a beam in a supporting wall, swinging occasionally, doing a pull-up or two, but mostly just watching. He can climb fine, but definitely isn’t one to go jumping head first over anything. Into anything. Which is apparently just how Alex approaches life. 

They have thoroughly explored every nook and cranny of Unfinished House No. 2 by the time she’s tired enough to stop. He’s had another cigarette (two in one day - that hasn’t happened in a while). Not really that bad, smoking, in comparison to, say, _ trespassing. _ Jonas blames it on Miss Blue Curaçao— she’s a bad influence. But he’s a pretty shit one himself, to be fair. He’s the one who brought her out here to begin with. 

“Your-” _ parents_\- wait, no, just, “-mom must be getting worried.” It’s not quite sunset yet, but the sky is a deep greyish blue as the sun is hidden behind trees. His physics section ends in five minutes, and then he’d have the usual 45 minute drive home in rush hour traffic. So, still some time to kill before he can head home and make it believable. His car is sitting open, but no one else has shown up - besides which, it’s not like a couple beat up backpacks in an old pickup are really prime targets. “Want me to drive you home?”

-

Alex nearly snorts. Sure, her mom gets worried about her, but… no, she shouldn’t get so cynical about this right off the bat. So instead she bumps her shoulder into Jonas’s arm. “Nah. My mom’s a doctor, and she works real late hours. Half the time I only ever see her in the mornings. If she were home and I wasn’t, she’d have called by now.” That part was true. Her mom is always worried about where she is, which is both a blessing and a curse. It hasn’t always been that way. She doesn’t say that either.

So she walks with Jonas to his truck, but instead of getting into the passenger side again, grabs her backpack from where she’d thrown it underneath the seat and starts for the truck bed. It’s simple enough to climb into it after moving her bag to the side, settling against the back of the truck and starting to work her way through to find her homework. Alex’s mom has a thing for getting on her about schoolwork now, so she’s just learned to do it at the last minute. As long as she’s passing. 

After pulling out a piece of english she needs to finish (since she’d passed out) and setting up her phone flashlight to shine on the assignment, Alex settles completely, pencil scratching quietly along paper. Kind of annoying to hold everything down when the breeze rolls through, but being outside feels better than being cooped up in her house for the fifteenth time ever. It feels like she’s known that house too well. Sure, it’s hers, but it doesn’t quite feel like… home. Home is people, home is the things you love all in one place. Which is why she’s always running toward them.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alex gets another one of those little tics. _ Home is Jonas. _

-

He’s standing by the driver’s side, expecting her to climb in, and instead she’s gone ‘round the back. Jonas isn’t even surprised at this point, just resigned to follow. So he steps around to figure out just what she’s intending, and once he gets it, he sighs. Right. Okay, well, apparently it’s study hall now. Fair enough; he _ did _ miss class.

Pulling his own backpack from the front seat, he strolls to the truck bed and tosses it in before stepping up and over himself. A couple steps and he takes a knee next to the toolbox installed in the back, keys jangling as he pops it open and pushes around the mess of supplies inside until he finds the emergency light. The plastic casing is cracked, but he flicks the little knob at the base and it turns on, so it still works. 

“I usually keep a blanket it here for the fall, but I haven’t done the switch over yet,” he explains, pulling out an old sweatshirt (now a little more grease-stained then when it went in). “Looks like this is the best I’ve got for padding at the moment. If you want it.” He hasn’t chilled in the back of Bily for a while. Now he sets the camp light down and sinks into a corner before pulling out his phone. Reception is shit from his carrier. “Any chance I can co-opt your data? Mine’s being a bitch and I need to check blackboard. _ Someone _ made me miss class.” Jonas raises a brow with the teasing accusation. 

-

She winces a bit, but it’s good-natured, as she pulls out her phone and unlocks it to hand it over. No new texts from her mom, but Ren has been blowing up her messages for ‘ditching him’ and being a ‘wild child like she always is.’ So basically nothing new. “Sorry. It’s not like I meant to fall asleep, suddenly get a nightmare, freak out because it looked like you were possessed, run around old houses for a while and then start doing homework.”

Alex trades the phone for the sweatshirt. She props herself up onto her knees before sitting on it, kicking out her legs again to make a proper kind of desk-thing so that her pencil won’t rip through paper. It’s relatively nice out, and the pickup isn’t really a terrible place to sit, even if they aren’t technically supposed to be here. Jonas was the one that had pulled up in the first place, so she just stays quiet about it. It’d been fun to use the scaffolding like they were some monkey bars, though. She does her best not to think about the implications her mind is trying to shove at her, and focuses more on the assignment, almost glaring at it even though she understands the questions.

-

Possessed? “Mmmhm.” He’s jokingly skeptical, but the whole possession thing is an unexpected addition. There’s another comment on the tip of his tongue when he pauses. Wait. The red eyes bit… that kind of possession? The quip eludes him as he watches her for a second, quietly, then turns his attention back to her cell. The password he sets up for the hotspot is - of course - MissBlueC. He hands her phone back over and returns to his own. 

Blah blah, school stuff, a powerpoint he’s not gonna try to read on his tiny screen… The homework doesn’t look too bad either, compared to the last one. And if he thinks he can concentrate with Alex across from him… Yeah, maybe not. 

But staring probably isn’t a good idea, either. 

Instead, he shifts a bit, angling a little more toward her so he can kick his feet up on a wheel well as he stuffs his backpack under his head for a pillow and slides down onto his back. Too early for stars, but at least there’s no sun in his eyes. 

-

This isn’t something she’d ever been able to do with Michael around. “Oh, shut up, Jonas. You’re the one who even let me go to sleep. Sure, I needed it because I’ve been avoiding it like the plague ever since I started seeing people dying. And… some weird other things, but that’s just kind of life now.” It reminds her of when she used to get panic attacks going anywhere near water. Even the idea of taking a shower would make Alex start screaming. Kind of similar, except now she sees her friends - and Clarissa, and Jonas - all dying. Which, ironically, isn’t new to her. Death will never be new to her again.

-

Jonas lets out a huff of bitter laughter at her assessment of her situation, but stays quiet. Maybe it’s all the church he’s been subjected to over the years (less once his mom was diagnosed, ‘cause he couldn’t stand the attention and pity, and even less once she was in the hospital and couldn’t drag him along with her), but he’s got that guilt dripping slowly to puddle in his stomach. That she should have it so bad when he’s stayed mostly unaffected.

Apart from the slightly terrifying amnesia bit, that is. That was pretty bad. 

Still, he has that instinct to comfort and protect, and it’s one he’s realizing he’s going to have to deny a lot around her, ‘cause… 

He swallows, trying to ignore her movement out of the corner of his eye, the little sweep of blue hair as she works. Yikes. It shouldn’t be going so fast. He shouldn’t feel so… weirdly attached. But he just kinda _ is. _ And it’s not like— well, not to compare her - not to say she _ should _ be compared - but it’s not like girlfriends he’s had. It’s not that initial attraction and posturing and trying to figure out if he’s doing it right. It’s like… deeper. 

Christ, this is… He lets out a long breath, and stares at the sky, watching it gradually turn to twilight. 

-

It’s easy enough getting through her english work. It’s always been one of her better subjects. Then history, then math, and that’s where she gives up. Math was a terrible invention by the devil that makes absolutely no sense at all. So Alex stuffs her papers back into her bag, bundles the sweatshirt he’s given her into a ball to use as a bit of a pillow, and curls up on the other side of the toolbox to look over the sky. No stars. It feels like she should be used to a sky without stars, for some reason, but that… shouldn’t be right. Unless she’s been seeing things all over again, which is also an option.

She shuffles a little closer to Jonas, tense all over again.

-

The sound of her scratching on paper, flipping pages, gradually lulls him enough to close his eyes, focusing on the smell of the air around them, the soft breeze that’s audible in the trees nearby but doesn’t quite reach his head down below the walls of the truck bed. If he focuses he can maybe feel the slightest change in the air around his feet, but that’s the most he’s got. 

Jonas tucks his hands behind his head with something akin to a sigh, about ready to take a nap after the combined exercise of chasing after Alex and worrying over her. Both strenuous activity, even if the idea does make his lips twitch. 

** _Student student student. _ **

He needs to remember that. 

But she can’t be more than, what… a year? Year and half younger? 

_ College students shouldn’t date highschoolers. _

_ Not that you’re dating. _

_ Not that she wants to date. _

_ Stop thinking about her like that. _

No, he can think of her like… Like a charge. Like he’s… babysitting. Keeping her from dying, helping her take care of herself, since she obviously isn’t super adept at the simple things like _ sleep. _ So he’s stepping in, in a kind of guardian role. And guardians don’t think of their charges… physically. Nope. So he won’t. 

He shifts a bit, getting more comfortable, secure in his resolution. 

-

When he doesn’t respond to her, Alex gets kind of worried. It’s a paranoia kind, where she knows he’s fine, and that it’s stupid to even think about freaking out over it, but it’s still there. Her head tips up enough to look over him. Cut jaw, broad shoulders, no green jacket. The almost-perfect/not-quite-perfect-dream-version of him. Her eyes linger on his lips just a little too long. _ Aah _. Okay. That’s what that weird— the weird thing was. The feeling. She’s tempted to ask if he’s asleep, or alive, or if he’s going to respond with anything other than that cut off laughter, but she doesn’t. Instead she takes off Michael’s jacket for a minute, slides the sweatshirt on over her own tee (because admittedly, it’s getting kind of cold, and this is fluffy), puts the bright red thing back on, and then settles herself.

…With her head on Jonas’s chest, and the rest of her tucked up against his side. 

It’s impulsive, it’s completely uncalled for, and it’s Alex. If he is asleep, that means he can’t argue. Free real estate to keep the nightmares at bay. That’s still a running theory in her head - that he can push them back if she’s in his proximity - but it works. When she was in the truck, it had worked. Which means it could work now. Sure, it’s half an excuse to cuddle him… 

Fuck it. She’s doing it already, no point in stopping now. He’s still comfortable.

Kind of a weird thought, but also a true thought. The fact that Jonas is comfortable. And his chest rumbles a bit when he breathes.

-

Jonas is counting his breaths. He has to, to pass off that he’s still asleep because he’s 90% sure that if he were noticeably awake she wouldn’t be doing this right now. Despite his dry mouth, he can’t bring himself to swallow, too worried it will break the illusion. 

There’s a reason he’s doing this, right? A reason that isn’t just… (His heart is going too fast, even with his attempts to control his breathing.) That isn’t just… wanting her close to him? There has to be another reason. 

Sleep. Right, sleep. She needs sleep, and if this is what helps…

His instinct is to pull her closer, get an arm around her, but he’s too cautious. Still, he feels the impulse go through him, making his fingers twitch for a fraction of a second, and it’s only thanks to the counting in his head that he keeps breathing, because he’s so worried she’s going to pull away. 

He’s too aware of her. The padding of her jacket against his side, the heat of her breath gradually soaking through his clothes. How she’s cuddled up beside him, and how much he wants to curl towards her as well.

The counting is working, though. Calming him down, even as thoughts he shouldn’t be having are playing on the backs of his eyelids. He just wants… His parents are hopeless romantics, and he’s been taken in by them. Visions of chin tilts and soft kisses replace the beach and the bonfire. He counts his breath in, counts it out again, and promptly dismisses the thought. Now is not the time. She is not the girl. They barely know each other. 

It’s several more rounds of in and out breaths, but gradually, somehow, he’s actually fading into some sort of mental limbo— that stage of sleep where the mind starts conjuring not-quite dreams. It feels so much later than it is, and in his half-conscious state he dreams of looking up into a starry night. And looking down, onto a bonfire. Into a cave. Down more, a ladder into darkness. They aren’t frightening dreams, though. Just… disconnected, drifting images. He’s lost count on his breaths. 

-

It takes longer than she likes to fall asleep. But Jonas helps. Alex figures he has to be asleep, too, since he isn’t moving or talking and hasn’t given any kind of indication that he doesn’t want this to be happening. So, still free game. His chest still rumbles, but she can hear his heartbeat along with it, and that might be the most calming thing about it. A reassurance that she’s around something alive. Someone alive. Someone warm, and caring, and wow she needs to just… slow down for a second.

Even if all of it’s right. Even if she tucks herself as close as she can get, throws a leg over his own, and just lays there. For someone so loud and bombastic when awake, Alex is oddly quiet as she sleeps, breath even and fanning over fabric as she drifts in unconsciousness. The dreams don’t even come. It’s just a blissful, black void of nothing, something that hasn’t happened to her in years. 

The bed of the truck is kind of uncomfortable, but she’s slept in worse places. In swivel chairs, on roofs, hell even on the beach of Edwards Island at some points. But Jonas being here is something that makes it better. Because they’re both warm, and the fabric of his shirt is soft— he’s soft. Not just the fabric. So eventually, Alex’s breathing matches with his own paced version: asleep. Calm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops meant to post this earlier. Also meant to make another aesthetic. ><   
Also, in case you missed it; the aforementioned sister fic to this (the inverse?) [Cut Jaw, Green Jacket](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21815224) is now getting posted (and written- we're really swapping between our three ongoing projects for these guys), so please go give it a shot and lemme know if you plan to stick around. I ordered a rubik's cube for the sake of that fic. This is my life.  
Turner


	11. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

Jonas is a bit disoriented when he wakes. Was he out for five minutes or five hours? He might be able to guess if he were staring at the sky, but he isn’t anymore. Instead his cheek is pressing against his makeshift pillow, chin lolling toward the floor, pointing his gaze straight at—

Shit. So much for all the talk of not getting too close. She’s practically in his arms at this point. Not quite, but close. Basically. Well, one of them. The other is sprawled out across the truck above her tucked head. But one is thrown over her, holding her against his chest. At least he hasn’t fully curled around her, legs safely on his side of the truck, even if she’s got one of his wrapped up with hers. 

God, it’s like— like the universe conspiring against him. Or for him, in a weird way that makes him feel guilty on the regular. 

He takes in a breath to sigh, and immediately regrets it ‘cause he’s inundated with the sense of Other and she actually smells really nice. Nothing flowery, no fancy headache-inducing perfume, just sort of… clean? It’s nice, whatever it is. 

Which is bad. Or— not bad for _ her_, just bad for him and his resolve, ‘cause he was awfully sure of himself before he fell asleep and now his will is kind of a mess. 

Jonas swallows hard, tries to distract himself from the girl cuddled up against him by rolling his head to look back up at the sky. It’s dark. 

Oh _ shit_, it’s dark.

He’s not gonna risk jostling Alex and waking her up (because- well, she _ does _ need the sleep), but his outstretched arm manages to catch her discarded phone and click the screen on to catch the time. 

7:31.

Whoops. Can’t pass that for just bad traffic. He’ll have run errands or something, or come up with some other lie. 

His stomach growls. 

Or dinner.

-

Alex doesn’t bother lifting her head at first, because that’s the most solid sleep she’s gotten in a few days, and she’s going to savor that if at all possible. Though once she’s convinced herself that she has to get up at _ some _ point, she adjusts herself enough to push up onto her forearms. And then she’s staring right at Jonas. Fuck. Okay, yeah, fuck.

From how it looked, he’d at least half wrapped himself around her in turn, which is both a problem and really _ really _ not a problem at the same time. Because if he’d done that in his sleep, then she’s freaking out about nothing. But if he’d done that while he was awake… _ Aaah, _no, stop. That’s the second time within a few hours she’s let her mind get away from her. He probably isn’t even interested. 

That doesn’t stop Alex from staying where she is, instead reaching over to pluck her phone out of Jonas’s hands and swipe it open to look at her messages. A few missed calls from Ren, a reminder from Nona to finish up a project, and her mom warning her that she won’t be home until early in the morning. So nothing new.

“Looks like you knocked yourself out for a couple hours too.” She grins that crooked grin of hers, nudging him. “Was I that hard to keep up with?”

-

She stirs, and he raises his head a little, mouth pulling into a half-amused grimace as the arm on his chest elbows him in the gut gently as she sits up, his own arm unwrapping and falling to his side. Their eyes meet for all of a second before they both look away, both look to Alex’s phone as she takes it from him. 

Jonas wonders if the heat on his neck is just going to be a constant reaction to her. Like an allergy._ An Alex-gy. _ Oh god, he must still be half asleep. 

He scrubs at his face for a second, taking in a deep breath, almost a yawn— and then he _ is _ yawning, his whole body stretching and bending, a slight smirk catching on his lips as his back arches enough to unbalance her. “You’re a menace. Never should’ve brought you here.” 

Now that he’s let go of her he can grab for his own phone wedged into his back pocket, swiping it open. A single message from his mom, asking him to pick up milk on the way home if he’s out. Simple enough. 

-

She yips a bit at being shoved off to the side, taking a hold of Jonas’s torso again while letting out a strangled kind of laugh.

“Aw, c’mon! I can’t be that bad, can I?” Alex glances over him again, just for the sake of getting a better grip. He’s built well enough. Still too tall (her type), still lean muscled (also her type), and still a huge teddy bear (_really _ her type, Jesus, what is she doing?). That wasn’t a thought she would’ve associated with him before. Too late now. 

-

Jonas is just going to ignore the way she grabs onto him - try to ignore, anyway, while being grateful that their light is all from the shitty camp light throwing shadows around them, illuminating her edges in sharp relief. He can blame the dark for the way his pupils dilate, the halo surrounding her. Her laugh is infectious, though. He’s grinning crookedly right back at her. “The worst. And I’ve only known you for like a week.” 

-

Alex has to drag herself up and over on top of him to reach her backpack and slide her phone back into the front pocket. “I mean, sure, maybe I can be. People here seem to think I’m the problem child of the town anyways, so.” 

No getting out of this for Jonas. He’s attached now, and she’s not one to let go of things. Especially if they just so happen to be a well-cut figure. She really needs to stop. Then again, does she want to? Nope. Not really.

-

An eyebrow cocks as she once more voluntarily puts herself awfully close to him. _ On top _ of him. He puts his hands on her waist more to steady her than anything else, though they do help him shift her away once she’s gotten what she needs, even if his touch holds maybe a second longer than is strictly necessary. He can’t tell if it’s wishful thinking or if she really is sending mixed messages. 

Based on everything she’s done so far, he’s willfully misinterpreting her actions. So, even if his gaze holds on once he lets go, he eventually looks away, as casually as he can manage. 

He’s already forgotten what she said. He was a little distracted.

“Should I be insulted that you’re constantly falling asleep in my presence?” The thought occurs to him, and he can’t stop himself before it’s already said, with dry humor: “Really Alex, I feel like you’re just trying to sleep with me.” But he’s cracked a grin, and is practically snickering. 

-

Being offended was probably the opposite effect than how she’d think of it, but he isn’t entirely wrong, in a sense. Her theory had panned out alright. So Alex winces slightly, kicks a foot up beside Jonas’s, and starts her own brand of punchy rambling.

“Kind of? But not— not like that.” _ Not yet. _

-

“Once again; not sure if I should be complimented or insulted,” Jonas murmurs wryly, though her initial _ kind of _ had shot his eyebrows straight up to his hairline.

-

“I have a running theory. Haven’t tested it with other people, because I’ve mostly been avoiding sleep at all costs, but it works in this scenario. Sleeping close by you gets rid of the nightmares, and the dreams. Which just adds to the weirdness, really, but hey. Whatever works.”

Whatever keeps Alex from keeling over in the middle of class again. That was more than enough attention for one lifetime, and she’d already halfway dealt with it, during some… choice moments in her very stupid career. 

-

His fingers are drumming a haphazard pattern against his stomach as he looks at the sky, considering her words. Everything about the dreams, the— the _ visions_, or whatever they are… it’s just confusing. The smile fades to something more contemplative, turning the theory over in his mind. 

There’s an apology on his tongue, but he doesn’t quite voice it. It’s not like it’ll do any good. He doesn’t know any more about whatever the fuck this thing is than she does. _ Sorry you’re haunted by weird nightmares _ just doesn’t feel particularly satisfying. Instead he lets out a short, “Hm.” Whatever works. 

Jonas’s head rolls sideways to look at her, brows pulled together in consideration. It’s simple to think to offer some kind of… arrangement. But to contemplate the _ how _ is where it gets confusing. What would he even be offering? All he can think is some kind of weird nap/study date, but then the _ date _ word is getting in the way, and it’s such a weird concept to present, and an awkward situation to propose, and… this is just kind of stupid, isn’t it? 

There’s a beat of silence before he finally speaks. “Well.” The word hangs in the air for a moment. At last, he lets out a low groan as he pulls himself into a seated position. “I’m about an hour late back from my class, and starving.” 

-

“Oh, shit, right.” She’d nearly forgotten. Through this very hazardous series of butterfly effects, he’s both missed his class, and missed his deadline for making things believable that he’s actually been in said class. Which is mostly her fault. “Sorry for that.”

Alex stretches herself out enough to crack her back, glancing over the emptied out housing development one last time before starting to climb out of the truck. But not before she fixes Jonas’s hair to something at least a little bit more presentable.

-

Jonas is about to shrug it off, say ‘eh, what can ya do,’ but his attention is unwillingly pulled by that _ noise _ she makes - that breathy sound of exertion. Or maybe it’s that combined with the way her body bows as she stretches. God, he needs a stern talking to. 

She must not have noticed his surreptitious glance, or at least she makes no comment on it as she leans over his seated form to smooth his hair down. He finds himself watching her bemusedly, tempted to ask what she thinks she’s doing, but biting his tongue because— well, it feels really nice, for all its brevity. Hands swat at hers but she’s already pulling away, so it doesn’t make much difference. “Thanks _ mom_, I’m good.” 

-

Alex grabs her backpack to sling into the passenger seat again. She can walk home if he needs her to, but he’d talked about getting food… He isn’t the only hungry person in the area at the moment. It had been another one of those mornings where Alex hadn’t gotten out on time, and so she didn’t have her usual lunch, or wallet to get another one. 

Huh. Maybe that was another reason for her fainting spell? It’s not like she’s used to taking care of herself. Usually, she just gets yelled at by her mom to go and eat something. Before the whole… Before, Michael did it. Her family had kept her somewhat on the straight and narrow. Now, there isn’t a whole lot of family left.

-

Jonas takes a moment to stash the emergency light back in the toolbox, locking it back up, before grabbing his own bag and climbing out to join her in the cab. It’s not too dark, just past sunset, but he switches on the headlights anyway as the truck rumbles to life. “So is the grocery store on Ford the closest? I can drop you home before I go.” 

-

Alex starts to nod, and then pauses just a minute. “No, I think there’s another one somewhere on Sedgefield, but I’m not too sure. I know there’s a diner around there though. Got great biscuits.” 

God, biscuits would be good right now. So would bacon. Really any food at all, seeing as she hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. A really light breakfast. What had it been, toast and strawberries? Something fast as she’d headed out the door. But the offer she has in mind is extended tentatively to Jonas, like he’s going to smack her hand away from the last cookie. “Maybe we could… go sometime? I mean, you said you needed to eat, and I basically haven’t eaten, so…?”

That might be too much, laying it on too thick. Jesus she’s bad at this. Last time she’d even thought of having a relationship was in middle school, and that hadn’t gone anywhere, ever. Mostly because Alex never had the guts to ask. “Ah, nevermind, you’re probably sick of me huh?”

-

Jonas can’t help the small laugh at her comment, shooting Alex an incredulous look. Diner biscuits, huh? He’s done graveyard shift trips to McDonald’s before, and the 10:55 last minute stop at Burgerville, but hasn’t seen a honest-to-God _ diner _ since the old summer trips to Missouri. They almost feel like a legend. 

His eyes flick immediately back to the road at her meandering invitation, headlights sweeping around the cul-de-sac as he turns them around. He’s avoiding looking at her, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight furrow of his brow, trying very hard not to overthink the offer. “So by some time you mean… now?” The intention had been for some sort of charmingly offhanded - maybe slightly teasing - aside. Instead it comes out as merely a clarification. He pushes aside the urge to stare, to analyze her intention, to study what exactly she means and what _ what she means _ means in the grander scheme of things, and instead cracks a joke. “Hey, if you’re buying, I could get used to this arrangement. Sleep with me, then buy me dinner. A little backwards, but I guess I’m a cheap date.” Not that this is a date. It’s a joke. Ha. So funny.

-

“Hey, if you’re willing to stop off at my house for like two minutes so I can grab my wallet off the counter? I’ll buy. My treat, for forcing you to deal with my whole-” Alex waves her hands around a bit, grimacing, “-_freak out _ thing earlier. And forcing you to cuddle with me, I guess. That seemed to be a perk, though.”

She’s only half joking when she knocks Jonas’s shoulder with the back of her hand. It doesn’t have to be right now, if he doesn’t want to, but hey; he’d been the one to offer getting food in the first place. Only right that she should pay for it since he’s had the will to deal with her this long.

-

“I mean, you were the one taking the risk. Should really be more worried about me accidentally crushing you, let’s be real.” Jonas isn’t quite smirking, poking fun at something that isn’t even an accurate point because she’s not _ that _ short, but she was the one calling him _ too fuckin’ tall _ earlier, and he’s gonna harp on about it because it’s something he can beat her out on with literally no effort on his part. “Tiny girl. Weensie kiddo.” He reaches a hand over to pat her on the head with a malicious grin as they exit the development and get back on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer breaks between chapters lately (also this is kinda a short one, whoops), been busy with the holiday season stuff. But should be editing chapter two of [Cut Jaw, Green Jacket](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21815224) later this week, and it's almost The Smut Chapter over in [Holy Spirits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20562917), so… there's that. I might make it a separate oneshot actually, since it may skew E rather than M. That's neither here nor there (well, I guess it's _there_, not here) so in the meantime, hope you enjoyed this li'l bb. Idiots in mutual pining; my favorite of all the tropes. ^^


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the chapter we were stalled on for a while, but that's what time skips are good for xD (and interludes! as you will see!). In any case, apologies if parts of the next chunk of things are occasionally slow- know that it will all be worth it soon. Soon...

**TWELVE**

After a quick stop-off so that she can run inside, grab her wallet, drop off her backpack and lock the door behind her, Alex starts steering Jonas toward the diner. It’s a usual hangout for herself, Nona and Ren, so if she tries hard enough she can forget her own ulterior motives. Because there are definitely some ulterior motives there.

-

It’s… Well, okay, he’s really gonna try not to think of it as a date. Just think of it as…

Well, she’s paying. So it’s not a date. It’s just a thank-you and payback for all the gas he wasted driving her around. That’s all.

The diner is almost completely empty. A few older patrons are finishing up meals, or just sitting down, even, but no one under the age of 50. Monday nights don’t seem so popular. Not in a spot with no TVs hanging from the wall, with vinyl seats shining from the baked in grease of however many years. Jonas lets her lead the way, following behind with his hands in his pockets.

-

Alex leads him into a booth near the back, sliding into place so that she can still look out the window while waiting for their food to arrive. Though for now, one of the exhausted-looking waitresses hands out menus, the carribean-haired girl taking hers with a smile. One that is most definitely not returned. Though it doesn’t seem to be in a hostile sense— just the look of a woman who’s run into the ground.

“Hey there Jane— you doing okay?”

“Ah, well, as okay as I can be. No Ren this time?” It’s now that she seems to remember smiling is a part of customer service. It’s still tired, nearly the same look as Alex, but with a few added years. “Or Nona, apparently. …And who’s this?”

“This is Jonas! Newbie here, his mom’s my teacher. How’s Dexter?”

“Still hard to get him to stop crying. Teething, y’know.”

“Damn, already?”

“Language, young lady!”

Alex laughs slightly at the woman as she walks away, waving a pen around like her finger. At least it’s clearly good-natured when she flips off Jane, only halfway finished with the gesture before the mother turns around and tuts a bit. Her cheeks go a bit pink, sheepish. Always has caught her in the act. Weather it be stealing some candy from the bowl when she was younger, or insulting someone a bit too harshly.

-

Jonas stays quiet, though that’s nothing new, instead looking between the two women. It’s… For some reason, he hadn’t expected such behavior from Alex. Not that she’d seemed self-centered, just… independent. Maybe to the point of distraction. But here she is, asking about what Jonas gleans is this woman’s son, and seeming truly interested in the answers rather than just polite small talk.

His eyes follow the waitress away when she goes, looking back as she does to catch Alex’s gesture. The smirk on his face is far more in reaction to the blush creeping over her skin at being caught than the gesture itself. He has a feeling it’s rare for Alex to blush, and it’s a cute look for her.

Not that he should be thinking about that.

_ Not a date. _

“So.” He picks up his knife, spinning it on its point on the paper napkin. “You come here a lot, th— Wait, are you wearing my sweatshirt?” Why had he thought she’d taken it off after their weird truck stop nap? The knife goes still, and Jonas blinks at her for a moment in surprise. The grease-stained maroon clashes a bit with her red jacket, but both are way too big for her anyway, so she’s obviously not going for presentation here.

-

“Yeah, me and the rest come here all the time. Less local kids to punk us around.” Alex pointedly avoids his question at first, though the shades of pink dappled across her face only seem to grow brighter. She shoves her hands into her pockets. “It’s comfortable, okay? And it was getting colder, and— I kind of forgot to take it off.”

No she hadn’t. It’s another little tic of hers, a serial clothing thief, for basically everyone she comes across. But this feels different. Like there’s more weight to it. Mostly because it still smells like Jonas, and that’s better than she’ll admit, but also because it feels almost like stealing the jacket from Michael again. Just in a different sense. Something she’d taken to ground herself, so that she could remember the world didn’t revolve around one Alex Strickland.

Now it seems like her world is starting to gravitate toward Jonas Long. She’s okay with that— more than okay. But she’s come to terms with that bit. He hasn’t, or won’t, or has never even considered it. Ugh. _ Uuuugh. _

-

The knife starts spinning slowly again as Alex begins speaking, Jonas’s eyes narrowed at her avoidance. He might be kind of holding back a bit of dry amusement at the way her cheeks stain pink as she valiantly avoids his gaze. When she finally does fess up, he chews at his cheek to keep from laughing at her defensive pout. He’s torn between telling her to take it off (which feels like making a scene over nothing) or just saying she can keep it (which somehow feels like a bigger deal for some reason?), so instead he says nothing and turns his attention to the menu.

Well, his eyes at least. His attention is still pretty hooked on her.

“What’s good?”

-

Alex balks, and then has to recover, quietly clearing her throat before glancing down to the menu. This is a bad distraction. This is a terrible distraction because it doesn’t actually distract her from anything at all. So she just… rattles off what comes to mind.

“Well I usually get the biscuits, which I think are killer, but everyone has different tastes. Ren says they have the best bacon in town, supposedly, which— I don’t really believe, but you can take that with a grain of salt.” There’s a pause when she sits up a bit, grinning. “Though there is something that’s always good. Malt milkshakes. They’re pretty cheap for a local place, and of course the absolute best creation comes from them.”

Then again, she kind of gets shunned for her weird food habits. Dipping steak fries into a malt isn’t people’s usual MO. But she’s always liked odd combos. Potato chips and ranch, peanut butter and pickles on toast- Her own ‘unique’ palate, as Nona calls it.

-

After a minute or two deciding on food (he’s not super picky; a burger and shake is more than fine for him), Jonas returns to his fidgeting. The knife is dropped in favor of the old trick his dad showed him, with the toothpick and the silverware. He hasn’t actually gotten the chance to do it in ages, since most places don’t really keep toothpicks on the tables, but that’s one of the benefits of an old fashioned diner.

“Ren’s the blond kid, right? The one you said was— what did you say, again? Rich with a drug problem?” His smile is tight, but mostly because he’s focused on the little balancing act, wedging the toothpick between tines of silverware, perching it just so on the edge of his glass. Easier to focus on that than trying to come up with small talk for a not-date with a girl he barely knows apart from a bunch of spooky dreams. “You really know how to pick ‘em, hm?” He pulls out his lighter, flicking it a couple times to get it to catch before bringing it to the ends of the toothpick. Always the best part of the trick. Jonas still thinks it’s pretty cool, to be honest.

-

“A bit of one, yeah…” It’s an odd topic of conversation. Then again, he does have the right to know, seeing as nearly everyone in the school is aware of it by now. “He uses pot to curb his anxiety. Says it mellows him out or whatever. Hasn’t done anything else yet, so. Better than that, I guess. Just gets annoying.”

Alex fiddles with her hair, looking over the menu one last time before Jane swerves back around to get their order. Of course she just gets her usual: a couple biscuits, grilled chicken, chocolate shake. The waitress knows her well enough by now, they’ve been coming here for years. Not to mention, when she was younger, she’d been Alex’s babysitter.

-

Jonas watches her for a second, idly passing his fingers through the flame of his lighter. “You really are a narc, huh Alexandra?” His brows are lifted in a distant, chilly expression, but he can’t hold it for long before a slight smirk is peeking through. “You know, I basically work for Camena High. Pretty sure I’m not who you should be chatting to about underage drug use.” Although… he hasn’t actually _ partaken _ in a while, and isn’t opposed to the idea.

Shit, she’s rubbing off on him. He’s pretty sure this wouldn’t have felt like an option six hours ago. Isn’t he supposed to be guardian-ing? Guarding? Being some kind of role model or something? He’s not doing great with that, but in a way that feels inevitable. He’s not exactly a prime example. But he should really be doing better than thinking of getting high with high schoolers. Not a good idea. He’s still not _ legally _ allowed to smoke for a couple more years. Sure, it’s unlikely anyone’s gonna care if he’s not the one purchasing, and— not to say he doesn’t have a fake ID if he _ does _ want to, but he’s not keen on using it around here, where people seem to care a little more about things like that than they did in North Valley.

And now the idea’s in his head. And his head goes… wherever it goes. Places it probably shouldn’t. Images of smoke and close quarters aren’t super useful right now.

-

Alex rolls her eyes a bit at Jonas flicking his hands through flames, and his own attempts at being vaguely threatening. If school officials were something that scared her, she would’ve started acting like a good kid by now. But here she is— hanging around with a TA and talking about doing drugs while underage. So basically her normal routine. Not surprising at all. “You really think I care that you work for Camena? I mean seriously, if— Oh! Thanks Jane.”

“Don’t say a thing about it, sugar.” The waitress is back with their meals, quietly settling them onto the table and ruffling up Alex’s hair a bit with that same tired smile. As she leaves, Jane turns toward Jonas. “You take care of her, now.”

“Jane! Seriously, not a date! You said the same thing when I first came in here with Ren.”

“I know, I know. Just like teasing you.”

She lets out a low kind of groan, and then covers it up with a biscuit. Shit these things are addictive.

-

His ears go a bit pink at the implication, but that’s as much mind as Jonas will pay to it. Hopefully. He keeps his eyes trained on the table, where he’s trying to remember more of the stupid tricks his dad would do to entertain him as a kid - shifting around toothpicks into different configurations, ‘cause there’s some kind of brain teaser here if he can remember what it is. His free hand rolls his lighter over and under his fingers deftly. Lots of fidgeting as a kid, he’s gotten good with his hands.

Once his food is on the table, he finally glances up, shoots a tight-lipped smile of thanks to the waitress, and turns his attention to the meal.

Alex’s groan of pleasure is… distracting. Jonas looks up, skeptical. Before he can let himself think too much into it, he’s reached across and snagged the other biscuit off of her plate, examining it. “That good, huh?” He turns away from her, expecting some retribution for his actions, and takes a bite. Okay, well. Yeah. They kinda are.

-

“Ah— Hey!” Alex goes to grab it from him, but he’s already taken a bite, and… well, there’s a bit of a finders-keepers rule with her friends and food. “You win this round. But I do take a tax.”

A handful of fries for a biscuit seems like a fair trade. She’s not cruel enough to pollute his shake with fry salt and potatoes (yet), and so instead goes for her own, happily dunking two in the chocolate and popping one into her mouth— mostly using the other one to gesture.

-

“Fair eno-” His voice fades, pulling a face as she dunks his perfectly good fries into her milkshake. “Well _ that’s _ a choice,” he mumbles skeptically. But she’s moving on, casually, so he doesn’t give her too hard of a time about it. Even if it’s weird. She’s kinda a weird girl. He’s figured this out already, and he doesn’t really mind it.

-

“Yes, they _ are _ actually that good, otherwise I wouldn’t come here at almost every opportunity to get them. I’m a woman of habit, Jonas, you should know this by now.” In her jacket pocket, her phone buzzes.

Reginald 😩👑😩   
  
Hey, Al, you okay? Heard from Jess you kinda spaced out in English earlier.

Something from Ren. She can ignore it. Or at least, she thinks she can, when another one comes through.

Reginald 😩👑😩   
  
Look I love you but you know I can see you reading these messages.

Her lips purse. He’s not wrong, unfortunately… Eh. She can still ignore it for a little while.

-

Alex’s comment about being a woman of habit… Jonas’s lips are turned up in a rueful smile. Really? _ Should _ he know that by now? They barely know each other. Even if it feels like… longer. A lot longer. But it’s been, what, a week? Has it even been that long? His head is shaking idly, bemused, as her phone buzzes once, then again. “You can answer, you know. This isn’t a date.” Like he has to remind them both. Mostly himself, maybe. “I don’t mind.”

-

“It’s just Ren being Ren, no real need. Besides—” Despite herself, Alex shoots another text back. No reason to worry the poor guy over nothing.

Reginald 😩👑😩   
  
Dude. I’m with the Mystery TA Man, let me live my life.   
  
YOU’RE WHAT.   
  
Alex. Alex answer me. You’re with Mystery TA Man and you don’t TELL ME????   
  
I’ve been with him all afternoon!! It’s fine!!   
  
Alexandra Strickland I’m going to kill you.   
  
Holy shit.

Well. There that is. She’s doing her best not to show how awkward that entire exchange was, eating her second fry after making her point. “—All he’s gonna do is grill me for hanging out with you. Mostly ‘cause Ren gets all the dirt on what I’m doing, and you’re what he likes to call… an Unknown Factor.”

-

Jonas is working his way through the food on his plate (it’s good, actually— a lot better than fast food, anyway), and his chewing slows at her last few words. So she’s telling Ren. That’s… that’s fine. It’s not like they have anything to hide. It’s just… kinda weird. He’s kept his personal life so separate from his little side gig for his mom.

Swallowing another bite, washing it down with his milkshake (yes, definitely worth it; even if Alex is desecrating hers with fry grease, she had good enough taste recommending it), he glances to Alex’s phone. “An unknown factor, hm.” What the hell does that mean? “And… what exactly are you gonna tell him?” What is she gonna tell anyone? It still feels illicit, something he has to keep convincing himself is okay.

The more he thinks about it, the more worried he is for school the next day. First Jess, now Ren… Someone’s going to say something. After his display _ ‘sweeping her off her feet_,’ someone’s _ definitely _ going to say something. It makes his fingers twitch nervously, so he reaches for another couple fries.

-

“An unknown factor, also classified as ‘Ren doesn’t want his whole drug thing to blow up in his face and is also kind of concerned for his best friend on the side.’” Alex finally puts her phone on the table - face down, so she won’t have to deal with even more scolding - before she cracks a smile at Jonas’s disposition. A worrier, much? “Just told him we were hanging out today. No biggie. Even if he’s kinda freaking out about it.”

And that’s all she’s required to say. She starts on another one of the biscuits, and some of his fries, but they’re fair game. He was the one to start this food-stealing war, and she’ll be the one to end it. Or, maybe not end it, but wind up with more food on her plate. Then again Alex did already steal his sweatshirt… which he definitely isn’t getting back. It’s comfortable.

She really needs to stop associating Jonas with comfortable. That might give her some bad ideas. (As if it isn’t doing that already.)

-

Jonas finds himself alternating between watching Alex and pointedly _ not _ watching Alex. He thinks of asking more about the dreams and the nightmares and all of that, but… they have a kind of comfortable casual silence going, and that train of questioning feels like it shouldn’t be done in public. It was so much easier to think about post-midnight.

“So what’s with the fry-shake thing? That some kind of Camena delicacy I should be aware of?” The waitress hadn’t seemed put off by it, even if Jonas has to lick at the roof of his mouth if he thinks too much about grease in a milkshake. Eugh. Gross.

* * *

-

Alex, honest to god, isn’t sure where the rest of the time goes. Of course she’s had her own ‘zoning out’ moments, but this doesn’t feel like one. It’s just her and Jonas talking until they’ve both exhausted any form of normal conversation. She foots the bill in return for him putting up with her, and then they’re back in the car. He says something about needing to cover his ass - not like she hasn’t done it before, she isn’t really listening - and asks for the location of the nearest grocery. Simple enough. He heads inside, doesn’t leave the car running, so for a while she’s just fiddling on her phone again. There are a few back-and-forth texts from her mom, still on shift, though they’re short lived and slow to continue.

Her jacket over Jonas’s sweater is more than enough to keep her warm, and so she burrows as best she can into the seat, and looks at the street lamps through the window once random apps stop amusing her. She’d turn on the radio, but he took the keys, not to mention the… odd feeling it gives her. There’s snooping around the glove compartment as an option, or kicking her feet up on the dash and pulling a ‘I’ve been expecting you, Mr.Bond,’ but she can’t focus on practical jokes. It’s too familiar. The entire evening seems too familiar, in a way, even though they’ve definitely never done this before. Hell, Alex didn’t even know him before he punched another guy in the face.

Eventually - she isn’t sure when - she dozes off again. The truck doesn’t hum the same way it would if it were idling, there isn’t another person with her, so it isn’t exactly restful; but she manages.

-

Jonas isn’t gone for too long, but it’s longer than he expected. First the extended grocery list from his mom, then an awkward moment of having his card declined and needing to go into online banking to get the funds… kind of embarrassing, but it was fixed pretty quick. Still, by the time he finally exits the store and gets back to Bily, Alex is asleep. Or almost asleep? No, she’s asleep again, curled up on the passenger seat in a position he’s pretty sure he couldn’t stand if their roles were reversed.

He unceremoniously (but with some slight effort taken to be quiet) sets the grocery bag in the space by her feet, then pauses.

Alex doesn’t sleep much. He barely knows her and he knows this is true. She’s running on fumes most of the time, from what he can tell. She’d gotten a bit of sleep earlier, sure, but… well…

Jonas shakes his head. This is stupid. He’s got food that needs to be refrigerated, he can’t actually be considering doing another round of this. Why does he want to help her so much, anyway? As much as he tries to be a good person, anyone would have to agree that this is above and beyond the call of duty, for a kid he’s known for… well, he’s pretty sure if he’d ordered something the day they’d started talking, it still wouldn’t have arrived. Why the hell does he feel so weirdly protective?

As much as he hesitates, stewing over his options, he finally turns the key in the ignition, and is bemused to find her dead asleep even with the engine roaring to life. Yeah, it really only highlights just how sleep-deprived she’s been. And he maybe feels a little guilty that he’s gonna have to wake her up so soon.

Which is stupid, there’s— he shouldn’t feel guilty, he’s not obligated to do _ anything _ for her. He’s just gonna drop her home, and then—

Shit.

Probably not a good idea to just… drive her home. When she never actually gave him her address. He knows it - or, he knows the street at least, and he’s got a vague idea what the house looks like, though he’s not entirely sure _ how _ he knows that - but outing himself as having looked her up in the neighborhood directory is maybe just a _ tiny _ bit stalkerish.

Still, what else can he do? He can’t exactly take her home with him. For a multitude of reasons, least of which being his mom. It was bad enough having her attempt to subtly question him about sitting next to Alex, he’ll probably die of mortification if she shows up as an unexpected guest. And it would kill his late-class-went-for-dinner _ whatever _ shit excuse he’s trying to keep up.

Instead, Jonas gets to their neighborhood and then slows the car, glancing over at his unconscious passenger.

“…Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” he mutters wryly, shaking his head to himself as he idles at a stop sign.

Finally, he sighs and reaches over to prod Alex in the side. “Hey sleeping beauty, I need directions.”

-

The dreams are more vague— if that’s even possible. Instead of those same, faceless friends, she gets other flashes. Beer by firelight. Getting boosted over a fence and falling on her knees in the sand. Crawling through a nonexistent crack in the rocks to look over pools of saltwater. Rusty ladders and pine trees, cliffside talks with no meaning. Alex is pulled out of it when Jonas pokes his fingers underneath her ribs, a pitchy whine coming out of her. Not enough sleep. Never enough sleep. He’s not exactly moving quickly, so she adjusts her elbow enough to trap his hand between her side and her arm, curling further in on herself.

“Hah,” She sounds just about as exhausted as she feels. “No escape. Now I can sleep all I want.”

-

He’s still - quiet - for longer than he means to be. Longer than he _ should _ be. It’s a pretty pathetic attempt on Alex’s part, since her leverage is crap in her position, but… Jonas blinks for a second, then pulls out of her grip, clearing his throat. “I accepted dinner as payment for before, but if you need me to be your sleep chauffeur you’re gonna have to start paying hourly plus incidentals.” He ignores the heat on his neck. It’s dark enough now to be hidden in the shadowy interior of the car, at least. “Directions?”

-

Alex just whines again, though she does pull her head up for the sake of seeing where they are. It’d be stupid to keep him for longer than he needs to be. He was pretending not to skip class for her, after all, and that means Jonas has a somewhat-schedule to keep. At least she knows he’s in the same neighborhood as her. “Mm, you’re in the right spot. Just keep on down the street then hang a left, mine’ll be the middlemost one of the cul-de-sac. Got the weird curve around driveway that makes no sense until you park in it.”

-

His lips twitch at her little irritated noise, shaking his head slightly. “Well, sorry to disturb your beauty rest. Maybe you could try going to sleep at a reasonable time instead of calling some stranger at 4am.” The directions are clear enough, and he’s pulled in without difficulty - a weird angle, but it makes sense, feels pretty natural. “Um.” He tries to think of the words to say before she leaves.

-

“Four is a reasonable time for me. Figure you should know that by now, Jo-Jo.” Maybe it’s a bit mean, but Alex says it in good heart, starting to push the door open and tug her backpack over one shoulder. It was actually… well, it was fun, and she isn’t really sure if she should say that or not. Jonas seems like a straight-laced guy, other than the smoking habit. So this will probably be a one-off thing, despite the odd dreams, and despite the weird connection she has to him. Which she might just be fabricating. Ugh. Too complicated. Still need more sleep.

-

_ Jo-Jo?_ The name makes him wince. He’s about to make a comment somewhere along the lines of _ Jonas is already a two-syllable name, _ but his tongue feels a little tied up on itself. He’s not gonna walk her to her door. Not even gonna get out of the car. Hasn’t even turned off the engine, so there’s no possible way he can be accused of making this a date. But saying something like _ ‘we should do this again sometime’ _ definitely would give it that vibe. And it’s not exactly accurate either.

After a moment of hesitation, Jonas says. “I actually live kinda close. Over on Hazelwood. So, like… if you need a ride sometime.” He shrugs a shoulder.

-

She damn near grins. Maybe not as straight-laced as she thought. Or she’s just getting her hopes up. Either way, Alex gives a nod and a salute, still walking to her house. “You know where to find me! See you ‘round.”

Once the door is closed, and safely locked because her mom would kill her if she didn’t leave it that way until she got home, she’s quick to start up for her room again. So now she has more than a few things compiled— …And she never gave back his sweatshirt. Welp, guess that’s hers now, since Jonas didn’t say anything about it. He has to have other sweaters, and if she wears it around, it’s not like anyone other than him would know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update is going to actually be a few chapters at once. Well, more like a chapter and three separate interludes. (Basically, we wanted to bridge from one very large doc to another very large doc and needed to cover a bit of time, so we did some mini scenes between 12 and 13 and between 13 and 14. I promise, if you're looking for some drama and some cuteness and maybe a teeeeensy bit of smut, this will be worth it. Halloween, my friends. It's almost Halloween.)


	13. Interlude A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So interlude A is mostly Hammie-   
Hammie wrote dialogue, Turner wrote action.   
(Also okay yes this may have been dictated after midnight some time in November or so, so...)

**INTERLUDE A**

“Hey, you know Alex fainted yesterday, right?”

“Do- Do you mean… Alex Strickland? There are like 15 Alexes in this school, dude-”

“Yes, Alex _ Strickland_, since you want to be so _ particular _ about that, fuckin’, _ Karen_-”

“Ye- Okay, Alex Strickland fainted yesterday, that’s… not that big of a deal. Like, a bunch of people faint on a regular basis-”

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah— but this is- this is a _ weird _ faint. For reasons outside of said faint.”

“…‘Out…side of said faint.’ …Okay? That’s a way of putting that. For what reasons _ outside of said faint _ was this weird?”

“…You know the TA?”

“Which- hh- _ Which _ TA, there are like ten T-”

“The TA for English, the one that hangs out in the back on the couch, and kinda doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, I know him - or— I see him around. Uh… what’s up with that?”

“He offered her the couch.”

“That’s not _ that _ weird, she just fainted.”

“And then when she got up…”

“Kay…”

“And stumbled into him…”

“Okay…”

“He _ picked her up and put her on the couch._”

“…Okay?”

“…And now she’s wearing a new sweatshirt.”

“_…Oooooh. _ Kaaaay.”

“Yeah, no, you- you see why that’s weird now? Like… did they even meet? Are they, like, a _ thing? _ Is that… happening?”

“I mean he’s in college, and I’m not surprised, I know a lot of girls were like… talking about it, ‘cause yknow… _ older men _ or whatever, I don’t know, it’s a weird— hh. Why do popular girls always want to deal with that shit?”

“Don’t ask me, dude, I— I can’t answer that. I’m… yeah. But it’s like- She’s wearing a new sweatshirt today. And her friend Ren says that she wasn’t hanging out with him. …Because she was hanging out with someone else. But he didn’t tell me who the other person was. And I _ think _ it was the TA? …Yes, I think it was the TA.”

“So, you think that she and the TA are… banging.”

“Maybe not— okay, don’t jump to _ too many _ conclusions there, that’s definitely a possibility; I think she and the TA are dating.”

“I mean, the clothes stealing makes sense with that, but doesn’t Alex steal, like, everyone’s clothes?”

“From what I am aware of yes, and seeing what she wears, yes. But also… Don’t you think it’s kinda weird to just randomly show up in a dude’s sweatshirt one day? Especially when he’s not _ in school?_”

“…You already had English, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… yeah I did.”

“…Eh, anyways. …I guess it is _ kinda _ weird? It’s mostly just like… a possessive thing? I don’t think he _ made _ her wear the sweatshirt, though. My girlfriend used to steal mine all the time, and now I just buy more, and… she still steals them.”

“Yeah! That’s— Yeah, so, she wears it of her own volition, which means she’s _ obviously _ telegraphing something…”

“…Or she just doesn’t think to care. And knowing Alex it’s probably just the fact that she doesn’t think to care.”

“…God I can’t wait til he gets back on, like, Thursday or something?”

“Doesn’t he get back on… Wednesdays?”

“I don’t know when he gets back, either way; that reaction is going to be _ fucking _ priceless if she’s still wearing that thing by then.”

“Heh. Yeah no, actually you’re right, but then again— won’t you not be there to see it? What do you have seventh period?”

“Uh… shop? Or— no, I have tech. Tech seventh period."

“Tech as in like…”

“Tech as in like computer tech. Like programming or whatever, dipshit.”

“Right, okay, well… You wanna make a bet on it?”

“…Sure, fuck it. I bet you… ten bucks, that they’re dating.”

“Okay, I guess that means I’m betting you ten bucks that they aren’t, and that they’re just banging.”

“…You know one of us has to ask Jessica about them now, right? Like, she’s the only one that’s gonna give us a straight answer.”

“Yeah… Yeah I know. Uh… Nose goes!”

“I—! …That’s not fair.”

“You were the one that brought it up, dude; obviously, you’re more interested in this than me.”

“…Hhh, fuck you. Okay, I’ll ask her at lunch.”

* * *

“Heeeey.” The kid shoots a glance sidelong at the rest of the table, but his focus is on- “Uh… Jessica?”

“Yeah!” Jess smiles brightly. “What’s up?”

“Can I…” He trails off, and Jess watches with wide innocent eyes as she crunches on a chip. “Look… I— I…” Nervous eyes flick to Alex, then Ren, then back to Jess. “I had a few… _ choice _ questions.”

Even if he looks stiff as hell, Jess is overtly relaxed. In her element, maybe, with a smile that would probably be a smirk on someone less used to playing innocent. “Say the word, my man. What do you want to know?”

“Is—” He hums to stop himself speaking, and again watches the back of Alex’s head for a second, hesitantly. “…Can we do this in a more private setting?”

Jess takes note of his look, though it’s unclear if it’s the usual _ Alex Strickland, she killed her brother _ look or more of a _ cute girl shouldn’t see me asking about gossip _ or a _ she’s the one I’m asking about and probably shouldn’t do it in earshot. _ She intends to find out which of those is true. With a shrug, she stands from her side of the table. “Okay, no prob.”

They take a few steps away, moving off to the side of the main cafeteria traffic.

Jess’s hands slide into her back pockets, rocking forward on her feet. “Okay. What do you wanna know about.”

He hesitates, like he’s trying to figure out the right words, or maybe just getting the balls to ask. “…Are Alex and the TA dating?”

“Are Alex and the TA _ what _ now?” Her eyebrows have shot up. Well, yes, she had suspected such a thing might happen. She’d warned him yesterday, that people would talk. And maybe some small (or not so small) petty part of her is a little smug to be proven right so quickly.

“Holy shit, you didn’t know? I thought you were in the same class as her.”

“Well— Yeah. I am.” But Alex had basically just met the guy. “W— Where did the dating thing come from?” Not to say- “I thought they just had, like, mutual crushes on one another.” That part seemed obvious. At least, to her.

“Uh… I mean, I was thinking they might be dating, because I heard from—” His eyes glance away - shifty as hell, this one, “—another anonymous source, that they were… _ y’know _, the fainting thing-”

“Oh yeaaah. That— that did happen.” Jess nods, considering. “It’s— hm. …He basically… he basically white-knight-ed that entire thing, I hope you know that. He was like… _ hero version._” It had been impressive. No one would argue against that. “But, y’know— he kinda insulted me when I tried to ask him about it.” She shrugs.

“He insulted you?”

“Well,” she waves a hand dismissively, humming, “not _ insulted, _ but was rightfully miffed that I was…” she carefully picks through her words, diplomatically, “making… _ assumptions _ about a situation I did not fully understand at the time— and still do not.” Like any good reporter, she adds, “I have also asked Alex about it; she denies a connection.”

“But you saw that sweatshirt.”

Her lips pull into a slight smile. “I saw the sweatshirt, yes.”

“So…” The kid leans back on a hip, catching on to her casual demeanor, relaxing a bit. She’s good at that, getting people to relax. “My friend and I made a bet… Do you think they’re dating, or just fucking?”

There’s a hum of consideration as Jess analyzes the evidence. “Hm…. Based on his reaction, I’d say dating, but I don’t have any, like… concrete evidence for that.” Can’t give the 100% accurate Jess endorsement. It needs the standard disclaimer that comes with a lot of secondhand info. “How much did you bet?”

“Ten bucks.”

“Huh.” She cocks her head, tapping her finger on the edge of her phone in her pocket. “…Are you the one saying they’re dating or they’re fucking?”

“I’m the one saying they’re dating.”

She gives a short approving nod. “I’ll raise it to twenty dollars. If you get the cash you split it with me, if he gets the cash I’ll pay up my fair share of ten bucks. ‘Kay?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, okay, that sounds good, I’ll tell my buddy about it. Anyways, uh,” eyes flick back to the lunch table they’d left, “Good luck talking to Alex after this whole exchange.”

Jess laughs lightly. “Ha, yeah… It’ll be a little difficult, but she knows I give her shit. Peace out, dude.”

“Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude A complete.


	14. Interlude B

**INTERLUDE B**

Why is his mom looking at him like that? It’s considering, maybe a little bemused, but not unhappy by any means. 

“What?”

She shoots him a small smile as she looks back down at her dinner. “So how was class?” 

Jonas’s eyes narrow slightly, a tiny bit suspicious, but mostly confused. “…Fine?”

“Today was English?”

“English and Comm.” He’s still speaking with a slight edge to his voice, still wary of his mom’s discreet look of too-innocent amusement. 

She nods, pauses to take another bite, chews, swallows. 

“How’s class going?”

Jonas’s eyes shift to his dad, who seems to be taking up the conversational lull with his own, less duplicitous, questions. 

“Fine.”

“Well that’s specific.” 

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Midterms this and next week. Physics test looks like it’s gonna be not too bad, English paper needs work, Comm presentation is a pain in-” he cuts himself off. “A pain.” They don’t have a swear jar or anything, but it’s probably not a good idea to be in the habit of cursing at the dinner table. 

His mom hums, “Are you using the writing lab?”

Jonas fidgets. God, talking school is boring as hell. “Can’t you just take a look at it?”

“Why not have your classmate help you? What was her name, Carrie?”

They’d literally just talked about this a couple nights ago. If she’s trying to pass that she doesn’t remember Katie’s name, there’s no way he’ll believe it. 

“Katie. And we decided it wasn’t gonna work out.”

“That’s a shame.” 

“…Sure…” Okay now this is irritating him, ‘cause he can _ tell _ there’s some ulterior motive here, he’s just not sure what. He just watches his mom with blatant suspicion. She grins back sunnily for a moment. 

“You know, I wonder if you could get credit for assisting in the writing center at Camena.” 

Her eyes are back on her plate, and Jonas is trying to figure out why she’s shifting focus toward the high school. “I don’t think so. I don’t get credit for TAing.” 

“Are you sure?” Jonas’s eyes once more flick back to his dad, who seems less aware of how shifty his mom is being. 

“Yeah I— I brought it up at the beginning of the semester, it doesn’t count for anything. Just volunteer hours if I need them.”

“You haven’t tried the writing lab? I could’ve sworn that’s what you were up to last night.”

Oh. So that’s what this is— wait, why is she being noisy about this? “I told you, physics ran late, so I went to get dinner.”

“Is that where you ran into Alex?”

Jonas’s face goes blank for a second. _ Sorry, what? _ But his mom is giving him that small innocent smile, and he scrambles to explain himself. “I might have seen her at the grocery store.”

“And… she looked cold?” The innocence is slipping away in favor of something more teasing. 

He feels the heat on his neck, and frantically tries to think of what she can be referring to. “I— I don’t know? We just ran into each other, I don’t know. I barely know her.”

Painted-on brows arch as she takes another bite, nodding along to his shit excuses. He thinks he’s off the hook, and has gone in for another bite himself before— “So how did she end up with your sweatshirt today?”

He doesn’t spit take. He doesn’t choke either, which is— well, good for him, ‘cause he thought he might for a second. Jonas even manages to tame his expression back to normal after the brief widened eyes, though he feels his skin heating as he pointedly focuses on his meal. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her attention turns to his dad, “I actually— You should’ve seen it. I bet the first row of seventh period thinks I had some kind of post-traumatic flashback. A full on double take when she walked in wearing— you know that sweater he has with—”

“_Mom._” He’s not proud of how whiny his voice sounds. “Can we— can this not be a thing, please?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad and I are just talking about my day at work.” 

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He stands up, taking his dirty dishes with him, “I have homework.”

* * *

Alex Strickland  
  
Really, Alex?  
  
What? What did I do?  
  
I’m innocent of whatever it is you think I’ve done.  
  
My sweatshirt?  
  
Oh. Yeah I stole that. You never asked for it back, sooooo…  
  
Well, asking now  
  
Guess what we talked about at dinner >.>  
  
…?????  
  
You wore it to school?  
  
You have my mom as a teacher?  
  
Haven’t we established this already?  
  
…  
  
Oh my God.  
  
I completely forgot your mom is a teacher.  
  
YOUR teacher, yes  
  
And now she’s not gonna shut up about it  
  
So I need that back, thanks  
  
Welp. Shit.  
  
Damn.  
  
It’s so comfy though? Can I just.  
  
It’s not like people will care if I wear it at home.  
  
?  
  
If I get it back fast enough maybe we can convince her it was all a fever dream  
  
Also, it’s mine? So… give it back?  
  
Why does she need to be convinced it’s a fever dream?  
  
For what reason is that a thing WE need to convince her of?  
  
Sounds like YOU need to convince her of it, if anything.  
  
Fine. This is a me problem.  
  
But ME needs that sweatshirt  
  
I  
  
I needs  
  
I NEED it  
  
You know what I mean  
  
Ughhhh fine. I’ll just hand it over the next time I catch a ride.  
  
But know that thou shalt not keep it for long.  
  
Is this like a thing with you?  
  
Should I be worried for the clothes on my back?  
  
Mm. Hmm.  
  
That’s overt there, bud.  
  
?  
  
I mean, sure, I’ve taken the occasional five finger discount, but this is personal property Alex  
  
And more importantly MY personal property so  
  
I’m expecting a safe and hasty return  
  
Like I said, I’ll drop it off next time I hitch a ride.  
  
No biggie, and no skin off your back.  
  
Or, clothes off your back, I guess.  
  
Something of that ilk.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude B complete.


	15. Interlude C

**INTERLUDE C**

Jonas   
  
Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.   
  
Do uh.   
  
Do you have class tomorrow?   
  
Wtf   
  
It’s like 2am why are you awake   
  
Uh.   
  
Well you KNOW why.   
  
But do you have class tomorrow?   
  
………..Theoretically   
  
Why   
  
Again.   
  
You know why.   
  
If I weren’t in my very comfortable bed right now I’d be hitting my head against a wall   
  
You’re lucky it’s midterms   
  
So ffffffffffffffine   
  
Oh God it’s midterms for you?   
  
Well physics section test yeah   
  
Also have a thing for the others but that’s next week   
  
Go to sleep   
  
Jonas if I was able to sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time   
  
WITHOUT waking up screaming   
  
I would, trust me   
  
…Yeah fine. Whatever. We’ll go crash somewhere   
  
Not literally   
  
I can work on class stuff   
  
You can just   
  
I dunno   
  
Pass out   
  
Which wtf I sound so creepy why do you just go to some dude’s truck to pass out Alex WHAT   
  
I mean I told you about the running theory   
  
And you told me about the weird connect-y dream whatever   
  
So there are a lot more reasons than your average get in the truck situation at play here.   
  
Jesus   
  
Also you’re like   
  
Kinda comfortable   
  
…thanks. I guess.   
  
I feel used.   
  
But also fine. But for real I have a midterm at like 11am.   
  
Ah shit sorry   
  
Bedtime for bonzo, I guess   
  
.   
  
I was   
  
I was going to but   
  
What   
  
Wtf   
  
Bedtime.   
  
For.   
  
Bonzo.   
  
That long pause was me sighing hard enough to cause a fuckin tornado in Oklahoma okay   
  
But goodnight.   
  
Ooooohklahoma.   
  
Okay no but goodnight.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude C complete.


	16. Chapter 13

**THIRTEEN**

Alex doesn’t exactly feel awake, but she’s excited. Sure, Jonas is skipping class (on her behalf) again, and maybe it isn’t the most urban of places (it’s a goddamn barn is what it is), but she has good memories there. And there’s a hayloft. Which has to be more comfortable than the bed of his truck with a couple backpacks and blankets. She brought him back his sweatshirt anyways, which means he’d better be thankful for at least that. Even if she’s definitely going to steal it again at some point. For now, she’s giving him directions to her usual hangout spot when Ren needs to rehearse for one of his gigs, or when he’s having too many people over and his parents are home. An old barn, maybe a mile or ten out from town, pretty much abandoned but kept in good enough shape. She’s leaned up against the window in the car and bundled up in her own blanket, because now that Jonas is actually letting her crash, she’s come prepared.

“Then you take a left on Fordham and keep straight until you hit woods.” Her sentences break with a yawn, and Alex tucks her head against the window. Every time they hit a rough patch in the road, she feels the glass buzz. “Turn right onto Woodstock and you’re there.”

-

Jonas tries to keep up with her directions. He does. But there’s a reason he does most of his work on paper, and these verbal directions just aren’t sticking. “Can’t you just—” he wrestles his phone out of his pocket and chucks it over to her side of the truck. “Just program it in.” He hesitates for a second. “…Assuming it has an address?” Eyes skirt sideways to her before focusing back on the road. “How sketchy is this place, exactly? Like… should I be worried about you stringing me up on a meat hook? I mean— I’m pretty sure I can take you, but— you’re not, like, gonna have a bunch of hired goons jump me when we get there, right?”

-

She lets out a slight snort, taking the phone and starting to plug in the address. Even if it isn’t being used as anything, it still exists on a map. “People come out here to have concerts and stuff all the time for like, underground music or whatever. Had to drive a speaker out to Ren a year back because he busted his other one in the sound check. Only thing you need to worry about is getting there. And maybe the meat hook thing— I’m not saying that’s out of the question, but it’d be a waste of a good pillow.” Alex hands the phone back once she’s sure it’s spouting directions, closing her eyes. Hopefully she won’t fall asleep on the way. Hopefully.

-

Jonas hums skeptically, a slight smirk turning the corners of his mouth, but makes no response. Following the GPS is easy enough, and when he thinks to ask for her help looking for the right turn-off, and turns to get her attention, she’s already asleep. 

Again, he finds his gaze resting on her too long. _ Stop. Creepy _ _ and_ _ dangerous. Eyes on the road. _

It’s not exactly a _ far _ drive, but it’s farther than she’d led him to believe. They’re going for almost half an hour, and he briefly wonders if he missed a turn, but he trusts GPS to know what’s up and it isn’t doing the recalculating thing, so…

When they finally get there, it’s empty. Which is… good? It’s not like he was expecting it to be crowded. It’s not like there’s any reason he should want it to be empty, either, but… 

No, whatever. He just wants the quiet. He still has a Communications presentation to do on Tuesday and a midterm paper for English that needs another go-through for revisions. 

The truck shudders to a stop, and Jonas grabs for his backpack, then hops out to come around to Alex’s side. He’s got the door a few inches open before he realizes she’s been leaned up against it, and quickly props her up, working with the seat belt to keep her from tumbling out. “Up you get sleeping beauty, I’m stepping away for a smoke and we don’t need you getting night terrors in the meantime.” It’s maybe not particularly tactful, or gentle, but it’s true. 

-

It kind of feels like she just came up for air in the middle of the community pool when she wakes up, though that could be the fact that her lean-to or whatever had been pulled right out from under her. Doors: never a safe place to sleep, even in a car, somehow. Truck. Even in a truck. Alex mutters something agreeing and rights herself in her seat, cracking her neck back and forth before grabbing for her bag and tying the blanket around her waist. Needs her hands to climb the ladder into the hay loft. 

The place is just as empty as it was the last time she was here. Bits of broken bottles further off, cans and candy wrappers, signs of life that are fairly new but not quite new enough to really be comforting. It might even make it less so. Alex is still moving though, patting Jonas on the arm to get him to follow her, walking toward the barn and tugging open the main door after splintering the bottom of it from a bit of a jam. Nothing exciting inside, other than a few squirrels that run for their respective exits when the two enter, even as she beelines for a somewhat-stable looking ladder the minute she’s past the doorway. “There’s a stray cat that comes around sometimes. Big ol’ tabby that likes to chase mice in here.”

-

Looks like the smoke is gonna wait a couple minutes, ‘cause he’s definitely not gonna light up in a barn filled with highly flammable (or at least, he assumes it is?) hay and straw and… whatever else is in a barn. So Jonas tucks the cigarette behind his ear as he follows along. The ladder looks… less than promising. But Alex had presented this place as a regular kind of illicit location for people, so it must get some use. And if it hasn’t broken yet… should be fine. Right? Yeah, should be fine. 

He still keeps a foot steadying it as she climbs, and waits for her to get all the way to the top. “Gimme like ten minutes. I’ll be back with another blanket, too.” He’d loaded up the cold weather stuff pretty much the day after their first weird nap session. 

It’s not hard to find the usual smoking spot. Not too far from the barn, but far enough to be out of the way, and the dirt is littered with mangled butts, ground under however many teenaged shoes have passed through. The weather has been getting colder and colder, which he doesn’t really mind, though now that he’s thinking of it he’s pretty thankful that Alex picked out a spot that came with insulation, since he’s not sure how long they’ll be here. Til she wakes up, maybe. 

He doesn’t really mind being the chauffeur. She’s nice to hang around with. Maybe a little insane, or at least a lot more flippant about social stuff than he is, but spending one on one time is fun. And the fact that she sleeps for part of it is— well, lots of things. On the one hand, kinda weird. But on the other hand, it kinda feels good? Not in a creepy way - or maybe it is, it’s an unusual situation - but like… it’s comfortable. And he feels like he’s being helpful, or doing the right thing or… something. And sometimes it’s a relief, because he occasionally needs a second to recover from her energy.

It’s a short smoke break, more to fill a craving - to take a quick breather - than anything else. Then it’s back to the truck to pick up the blanket and (after a moment of consideration) the camplight. This could go late, and he can’t just fall asleep when the sky gets dark; he’s got actual work to do. Making his way back into the barn, blanket looped over his neck, Jonas whistles a warning to the loft, hand wrapped around the light and poised to throw. 

-

She’s restless, waiting on Jonas to come back. It’s just a smoke, and it’s not like she’s alone for long, but it always feels dangerous when someone isn’t with her and she doesn’t have a distraction. Her phone has reception, sure, though she’d forgotten her earbuds at home. So no music to fill her head and get rid of the odd thoughts that cross over every so often. Signal ticks and the way water fills up ears so that everything echoes in harmony with one another. Almost asleep again, it’s the sharp whistle that jolts her into wakefulness, head popping over the edge of the loft just in time to catch the lantern, despite fumbling with it for a moment. Safe, and no fires started. Better than most of the meetings that happened here already. 

“Give a girl a minute to lay down, will you?” Despite Alex’s annoyed tone, she’s smiling down at him, hair already pulled out of its usual ponytail. Easier to sleep without a hair tie digging into her neck. Easier to sleep with Jonas around, too, but that isn’t terribly important at the moment. Even if as soon as he’s up the ladder she takes the other blanket from him, waits for him to get settled, then curls up at his side. “Least you could do for a woman who suffers.”

-

“_A woman who suffers,_” Jonas scoffs with a smirk, unzipping his backpack to pull out his midterm work. He shakes his head and clicks on the glorified flashlight, flicking the red pen in quick circles between his fingers. His eyes stay on the paper he’s revising even as he reaches out to ruffle her hair absently. “If you can suffer in silence, I’d appreciate it. Important grade for English.”

-

She just sticks her tongue out at him. Important English Assignments— bleugh. His problem, not hers. Alex closes her eyes, intent to suffer in silence since he asked so politely, before another memory pops into her head. “Hey— wasn’t that girl you were with from your class or something? The uh. The one where it didn’t really end well, ‘cause, y’know. …Katie?” 

It’s vague, sure, but Jonas probably remembers it better than she does. After all, Jonas had been the one dragged around by her. Alex kind of wants to call it a date, because now that she’s thinking about it, it seemed _ a lot _ like a date, though she keeps that bit of information to herself. Because if it _ wasn’t _ a date… 

Okay nope, too fast. Bad idea.

-

Eyes flick over to her, then back to his work, though he lets out a soft _ snrk_. “You mean the date you managed to both crash _ and _ make go up in flames? Yeah, we’re at the same table usually.” There’s a bit of sardonic amusement to his voice. Things haven’t been exactly _ bad _ with Katie since, but there have definitely been a few awkward moments. Probably would’ve been made worse if she’d known Jonas had ditched her to… to what? Go home and text some girl he’d barely known at that point? “Not sure if I should blame you or thank you for that one,” he mutters.

-

“Ouch. What, did I tug some heartstrings?” It makes her heart sink a little, even if she can’t quite put a finger on why. (She can. She doesn’t want to admit it though, not to herself, and definitely not to anyone else. It’s just a bad idea in general.) Still, Alex tugs the blankets further around her shoulders, letting out a squeaky kind of yawn as she settles again. At least the hay is softer than the flatbed of Jonas’s truck, even if she’s going to have to shower in order to get it out of her hair. And wash her clothes in extra hot or something. “Didn’t seem like your type anyways, Jo-Jo.”

-

He just barely winces at the nickname, but rolls his eyes. “Like you know what _ my type _ is.” Jonas shifts a bit, ‘cause she’s leaning against his side and it’s kinda uncomfortable, but— that’s better. Puts one hand kinda out of commission, since it’s awkwardly more behind _ her _ than within range of his papers, but that’s fine. Better than an arm that’s gonna go to sleep. 

His eyes go to the paper in hand, but the talk makes it kinda hard to focus, and he ends up murmuring absently; “She wasn’t _ that _ bad, just kinda clueless.”

-

Alex pokes a finger into his side through the blanket, though after that, silence takes over for a few minutes. The background noise of pen on paper and her legs shifting around every so often is enough to make her nod off three times, but she still tries to keep up a conversation. Even if she’s half asleep while doing it.

“So I was right,” there’s a soft snort of laughter, “not exactly your type. What _ is _ your type, anyways?”

-

Jonas pauses in the midst of rereading a sentence, trying to consider her question. Immediately he thinks of the girls he dated in high school, and his lips pull slightly. Yeah, they weren’t exactly his ideal type either. Does he even _ have _ an ideal type? “Oh, you know…” He taps the pen against paper, trying to picture some dream girl, but _ dream _ \+ _ girl _ usually ends up being Alex for a completely different and more literal reason (being that… well, she’s the girl who ends up in his actual dreams). 

So he scrubs that out and tries to picture something else, tries to put words to the vague shape that’s been smudged out in his mind. “Tall. Brunette.” And that lends itself to a clearer image on its own. “Maybe a big hat.” _ Heh. _ He continues on that train of thought, even if he’s trying not to smile; “Red raincoat… lots of mystique…” Shit, wait, that’s sounding like Alex again. “…Been around the world… Somebody like that.”

-

For a few minutes, she’s quiet, and she might have fallen asleep— if not for a slight _ snrk _ underneath her breath, poking him again. “You literally just described Carmen Sandiego.”

-

“My mom’s a teacher, of course I grew up on shitty edutainment.” Jonas smirks and reaches down to poke her in the ribs in retaliation. “Don’t kinkshame.” But he can’t even say that straight, ‘cause he’s stifling a snicker. His attention turns back to his paper and his free hand rests on her head absently, a half-noogie half-petting kind of motion. “Go to sleep, _ Camena San Piedro. _ I need to revise”

-

“Y’know I used to be a brunette.” Alex tries - and fails - to bat his hand away from her side, before settling again. “Before I dyed my hair. Boys thought I looked better that way, but I like blue. Also— Camena San Piedro? Really? You can do better than that.”

-

Jonas looks at her for a second, and it’s like he can picture it: some distorted reflection, some Other Alex— a little less manic, a little lighter. Still her, though. Looking away, shaking his head, he mocks, “Camden St. Angelo? Catherine Sintinello?” He huffs out a laugh. “God, these just get worse,” he murmurs with a smile, before trying in vain to focus at the words in front of him.

-

Internally, she’s glaring at him, though Jonas gets off with nothing more than a grumble. For now. Those nicknames were horrible, and he’s right about one thing: they only get worse. 

It still takes more time than Alex likes to fall asleep, even if the dreams don’t come about with him around, but it helps that he just kind of… pets her head every so often. She’s not sure if it’s absentminded or a deliberate attempt at getting her to lay down and actually _ rest _ for once, but whatever it is, it works. Now there’s just the quiet of Jonas working on his paper, and every so often Alex scuffling around in her sleep to press up closer to him.

-

It’s easier to let her get close when his attention is split. At least, that’s what he assumes once he’s finished his English revisions and finds her head practically in his lap. It’s not like he let her do it intentionally, she’s just kind of… there. And his hand is still lazily playing with her hair, massaging her scalp, combing through blue strands absently - a fidget for when he can’t be spinning a pen between his fingers, maybe. 

As soon as he notices, his movements stop. As soon as he thinks too much about it, he starts thinking _ too much _ and all those doubts and anxieties come back full force. And of _ course _ he feels guilty about it. She’s a student, she’s a highschooler, she’s not— he needs to stop thinking of things that way. He needs to let a good thing be. Or— not even— who’s to say it’s a _ good thing_, even, he just needs to let sleeping dogs lie. Stop thinking about her like that. It’s creepy. Stop it. 

There’s not a lot he can do to work on his Comm midterm aside from looking over his presentation notes, but he does that. Focuses on memorizing the outline, point to point, that’s he’s going to have to deliver to a class full of students. Not something he’s super keen on, public speaking. But they’ll all be in the same boat, at least. Jonas runs through the points in his head over and over, A to B to C to D, mouthing silently point after point until he can do almost the whole thing with only glancing a couple times to the note cards. 

Great. So that’s done. 

…But Alex is still asleep. 

But she needs the sleep and— well, he does too, kind of. He’s found himself too quick to answer her texts even when they come in at 2am, and it’s not the best thing for getting a solid 8 hours. 

It’s getting colder. October only has another week left in it, really. Jonas is thankful he grabbed another blanket, and more thankful (even if he’s not a huge fan of the outdoorsiness of it) that they’re propped up against a pile of— hay? Straw? Whatever it is, it’s as close to a pillow as he’s gonna get, and it lets him scoot around a bit, burrowing back so he can keep his arm over Alex without being stuck at an odd angle or forced to awkwardly curl around her. Just his arm resting on her, head tilting back, tugging his hands inside his sleeves and letting himself close his eyes. 

A nap. Just an hour, maybe less. She’ll wake up, he’ll wake up, and it’ll be straight home for a hot shower and late dinner. 

-

Alex wakes up more stiff than normal, but well rested. Which is something she feels like she hasn’t felt in _ years. _ Though she notices something else too - the ball of heat next to her - and cracks one eye open to spot Jonas asleep himself. Since he’d been kind enough to let her catch some winks during his weird study hall in a barn that she’d halfway forced on him, it’s only right for her to let him do the same. Totally without another motive, not at all. Not because his chest still rumbles, and he’s got the blankets half wrapped around himself and her, or an arm around her shoulders. She’s just doing it to repay the favor.

Even if she finds her eyes flicking open to look him over once, twice, before finally just coming to the conclusion of doing what she wants. Impulse control has never been her strong suit. Alex does her best not to wake him up as she shifts their position, bit by bit, to push his arm underneath her head and curl closer; if that’s even possible. Thankfully for both her pride and Jonas’s shrewd nature (could she even call it shrewd? there’s a better word for that), he remains asleep, and she gets a free pass to analyze what she’d seen in her dreams— and a bit more.

It’s the same set jawline, the same slight exhaustion to his features, the same dark red hoodie. Which is information she gained through a power nap during lunch (that Ren had to wake her up from because she was making one too many fearful noises). It was a good thing he had, too, because that one had been… creepy. Really, really creepy. The creepy ones always seemed to involve Jonas somehow, either because he was doing a red eyes thing or she was, and she never understood the significance.

Alex shoves the thought out of her head. Bad dreams are for exactly that: dreaming. Not for the waking world. And Jonas is just right there. Which means they wouldn’t even happen in the first place. Of course, there are probably multiple reasons behind that, not just her odd theory of the connection. It’s a feeling she gets. Like she’s on the drop of a roller coaster and her stomach is doing flips, waiting for the next hill to climb, but enjoying the limbo. A feeling that’s almost too free for her to stand. She has to lean up a bit in order to run a thumb along his cheek, and then it just goes from there, half on top of Jonas just so that she can futz around with his hair or focus more on features than on thoughts. 

Getting lost in things isn’t wise, but getting lost in him… Well, she’s already halfway there. May as well enjoy it while it lasts. He won’t be asleep forever.

-

Apparently he’s more tired than he’d thought. Or maybe it’s just having something soft to nap against that isn’t the cold metal of his truck. Whatever the case may be, Jonas is pretty much dead to the world for a lot longer than he’d anticipated. He’s got plenty of insulation, his hood keeping the pokier bits of… whatever sort of plant matter that should be called (fuck it, it’s a hayloft; he’ll call it hay) off the back of his neck.

When he finally does rouse a bit, he’s scrunching up his nose and swatting a sleepy hand at whatever’s making his face itch. If he were a little more awake, he might be more paranoid (the great outdoors aren’t really his _ thing_, and bugs even less so), but he’s still pretty drowsy. Once he’s shooed whatever it is away, his palm rubs against an eye, opening the other. 

…Well, shit. _ Hi, Alex. _

His surprise is evident but not jarring. She’s just… a lot closer than she was when he fell asleep. At least, he thinks she is? His brain is still cranking back into gear. He’s got a kind of crooked smile on, a little unsure, as he gradually becomes aware of their situation. 

Once he does, his smile fades - or maybe just gets a little strained, a little reluctant, as he feels the warmth spreading up his neck. 

This is not good. This is very not good. This is— nope. Stop thinking like that. 

There’s a split second of blankness behind his eyes, like a forced reset of whatever script is running through his head, before he sits up, a little stiffly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to konk out like that.”

-

Alex slides a bit in the shuffle of him getting up and the surprise of Jonas actually being awake in the first place, though his apology earns him a teasing smile. “Hey, you’re the one staying up with me half the time. Guess you needed it as much as I do.”

There’s a change in his expression, too, even if it’s slight. Maybe it’s just the situation, or both of them being tired, or something. Either way, she’s not moving. Not until he tells her to. They have time— at least they should, based on her internal clock. 

Which is almost always wrong.

Okay, maybe they don’t have time.

Still, she takes to getting hay off of Jonas’s clothes, snickering quietly. “Hey, guess we have a new fashion statement. _ Scarecrow Chic. _ Just cover yourself in this stuff, and boom, you’re on the cover of Vogue.”

-

His mind is still gradually warming up, and he’s left just watching her. She’s _ definitely _ closer than she was when she fell asleep, that’s obvious now. And she’s touching him. Not— not like _ touching _ him, but— It’s noticeable, that’s all. Hard to ignore. 

It takes another moment for Jonas’s brain to come up with a response, and when he speaks his voice is still rocky from sleep. “How long have you been up?” He checks the time, and it’s later than he’d expected. Studying had taken him a while, but his nap had apparently lasted a while after that. It’s dark out.

-

“Mm, few minutes?” Alex purses her lips, glancing toward the exit of the barn and no longer finding light coming through the crack she left in the door. “It was dark when I got up, anyways. Figured I’d just let you sleep.” 

She has to reach under his hood to ruffle his hair, and then she’s more than content to splay out in his lap again, half-stretching and half because she still doesn’t want to get up. Sure, she’s going to have hay in her hair for the next few hours, but… worth it. Jonas is a perfectly good pillow. Then she grins. “Seemed stressed out. Figured you’d wanna be energized, in case someone decided to take a roll in the hay.”

_ Heh. _

-

Jonas swallows hard for a moment, waaay too aware of the way her body bows and flexes against him. _ Way _ too aware. And her words don’t help. _ Someone. _ Like— like _ them? _ He chokes a brief laugh, not sure how else to respond, and gets a hand on her waist, shifting her away. The touch feels too familiar, too intimate. “Not- uh— not the most comfortable sleep I’ve had.” 

Once she’s not touching him anymore, he feels a lot colder, but it’s a sacrifice he has to make, for the sake of propriety. And— and other things. She can’t _ actually _ be— she’s just like that sometimes. It’s a joke. Right? “Never really got why people would do that, anyway. Sounds messy.”

-

“Yeah yeah, you’d hope it would be!” Alex is cackling, and she lets herself be moved, snorting out words in places where she should probably be breathing. “Jesus Jo-Jo, ever the stick in the mud. Loosen up, not like it’ll kill you.”

One of these days, she’s going to get him to relax. Not for sleep, and not because she’s going to drug him or something, but just to take some of the tension out of his frame. Jonas looks like he’s got some kind of constant guilt going on, and she knows how that feels. It isn’t good. But for now, Alex just pulls herself onto her feet, picking up the camping light and a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. It’s cold, and without a boy-blanket, she’s forced to resort to a cloth one.

-

Again with the— “Vetoing that nickname.” He winces again. “That’s a no on the _ Jo-jo _ thing.” Doesn’t exactly disprove the _ stick in the mud _ accusation, but he doesn’t have to prove anything to her. …Okay, well, he can convince himself not to, anyway, even if he’s tempted. But she’s Trouble with a capital T and proving anything to her is bound to go sideways. 

He can’t help that he’s tense around her. It’s not like it’s an all-the-time thing, either, it’s just— he gets in his head. About her. About who she is to him, and who he is to her, and all the things he shouldn’t be doing. It’s easier over the phone at least, when he doesn’t have to look at her. Wait, not like— it’s not like he hates looking at her. If anything, the opposite is the problem. And talking at 2am, laying in bed, half asleep, those inhibitions are a lot weaker, and things are just _ easier. _ When he’s looking at her, and she’s right there, he’s too aware of it all. 

He’s been quiet for too long. Not a horribly long time, but it feels noticeable, so he pulls himself fully to his feet and gets to brushing himself off. “Heading home, then?”

-

Alex shrugs a bit, trying to both detangle hair and get hay out of it at the same time. Not a fun process, and she’ll have to shower later to complete the job, but whatever works for now. “We could go out to dinner again, considering I actually brought my wallet this time.” Even if her wallet is just a card attached to the back of her phone with a few bills stuffed in next to it.

Though she’s still grinning as she ties her hair back up, totally and completely not making note of his dislike for the Jo-Jo nickname she’s coined, handing the camp light out to him so that she can climb down the ladder and prepare to catch it at the bottom. He’s still stiff, and stilted, so maybe she can fix one of those two things before she goes home tonight. A hot meal would probably do them both some good, anyways.

-

Jonas is mulling over his options, quiet and considering as Alex climbs down. It’s like he can feel the tension dissipating once she’s not right next to him. 

…He has problems. So many problems. And when _ this _ is where his mind is going, a not-date-date may not be the best idea. Leaning over the edge, he tosses the plastic lantern down. Besides— “Still have midterm stuff to do. Have to type up my edits and all that.” And the shitty shitty public speaking practice, the thought of which has him grimacing as he climbs down as well. 

Turning away from the ladder, he finds Alex too close again, and he pulls up short, eyes darting over her with a quickly tempered surprise before they skirt away. “…Some other time.” The pressure from school should be making it easier to not think about all the Alex problems, but things don’t seem to work that way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, [get some sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874917) can be considered an interlude between 13 and 14, as well as the soon-to-be-posted Interlude D. Lots of those little time-passing bits before the whole slew of things that start with chapter 14. (Oh man, it's almost 14, I'm so excited for 14.) (Also there may need to be a rating change bump to M for some uhhhhh_nderage drinking and drugs_.)


	17. Interlude D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This one's all Hammie, actually.]

**INTERLUDE D**

She’s up too late on a school night again, but that’s been a trend since the nightmares started coming in droves. Being up late is normal by now, as is texting or calling Jonas to schedule some well-needed nap time in the back of his truck or the barn, but the reason she’s up… That’s a new one. Because she can’t get him out of her head. The dreams line up too well with what she’s seen, what she’s heard, what she’s ignoring.

“Nope,” Alex mutters to herself, closing the laptop that’s been running some lo-fi stream. ‘For chill and studying.’ Not like it helped. “Not ignoring anything. Overthinking. Don’t deal with it.”

The window is open in her room, letting in cold air that forces her mind to slow down and process things, even running on the minimal amount of sleep she’s been getting lately. Alex isn’t sure why she feels like she has to distract herself. Her homework is done, so that isn’t an option, and all her friends are asleep… Jonas wouldn’t be. He’s either waiting for a text (which is probably bad for his heath) or about to wake up because this is their usual time of communication (even worse for his health— why does he hang out with her again?). But she doesn’t want to bother him tonight, and her phone is probably dead, or she can trick herself into thinking it is because she doesn’t want to bother him. Alex tosses the covers off of her legs and pads over to the window, shaking out turquoise hair and letting the wind rattle her bones. 

Distraction. She needs a distraction. And if she can’t find it at home…

Still in a t-shirt and pajama shorts, she tugs the red hoodie over her head (taken back during another naptime meeting), steals the house key from where it sits underneath the welcome mat just inside, and starts to walk. It’s cold enough she can see her breath, so she’s more than entertained by huffing out clouds of white and laughter in the dead of night. It clears her mind better than playing a game or just pacing around the house. It’s the freedom, she thinks— the fresh air cooling on her skin, pavement underneath her feet near freezing but not quite, slight warmth on her neck from where her hair covers bits of flesh. Hair Jonas has been running his fingers through lately, like a nervous tick, skin pressed up against the fabric of his shirt when she sleeps— 

“No! Nope! Nuh-uh, no way, not— No.” Alex doesn’t really mean to shout as loudly as she does, and almost instantly flinches. No one’s lights turned on though, so. Crisis averted. Yet she speaks to herself, as if trying to convince one half of her to another. “You don’t have a crush on Jonas. You do  _ not  _ have a crush on Jonas, Mystery TA Man. You can’t. He’s— Well, y’know. TA. He’d kill you.”

_ Would he kill you, though? Dreams seem to say otherwise. He’s always saving you. _

“Shut up, internal Alex. We’ve had this conversation.” They haven’t, really. But the evidence is there. The need to be close to him, the quiet moments she enjoys far too much, and the weird… Well, the weird dream connection. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to be.

For another few minutes, she stops talking, and considers her options. Not in the ‘picking petals off a flower’ kind of considering, more a ‘what the hell is a woman supposed to do with this information’ kind of considering. Alex laps the neighborhood, damn near hoofs it all the way to Ren’s, before finally turning around to head back to her own house. There are more than a few conclusions she could come to— conclusions she has come to. She has a certain…  _ fondness _ for Jonas. Maybe more than fondness. Maybe even more than something more than fondness. A crush. Like some idiot schoolgirl. Which, really, what could she expect? There’s a tiny bit of her that’s realizing it’s a chance not to fuck things up with Michael’s death. He knows about it - Katie would’ve told him, after how they’d been introduced that’s obvious - but he might not know the implications the town put on her.

Murderer.

No. No, she can focus on something else right now. The kind of fluttering feeling she gets around Jonas is a good place to start. Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good thing.


	18. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _halloweeeeeeen_

**FOURTEEN**

Jonas glances down at his phone, and back up to the house in front of him. Looks like a party, sure…

He clears his throat, and awkwardly adjusts his collar. 

When Alex sent him a text saying _ Suuuuuuuuuup, Jo-Jo? _ he was… a little confused. Especially at 12am on a Saturday night - or Sunday morning, maybe. But a little back and forth established that 1) she was at a party, 2) she was self-confessed tipsy, and 3) she was using waaay too much punctuation, so who really knows what that meant. He’d managed to get the name of a neighborhood out of her, and from there… well, it wasn’t too hard to find. The houses were far apart, but there were the telltale signs. 

Now he stands outside of one of the nicest houses he’s ever seen in person. Apparently, Blondie’s place. Ren. 

Jonas feels a little self-conscious, walking up the front walk, going inside, because he definitely recognizes at least a couple faces from his mom’s classes, despite the costumes - which, okay, apparently a Halloween party, he’s underdressed - but no one has come up to say anything to him yet. He pulls out his phone again. 

Alex Strickland  
  
Suuuuuuuuuup, Jo-Jo?  
  
Where are you?  
  
In the pit!!! Where else would I be???

-

Alex is having the time of her life. Because of course she is; Ren throws parties like no tomorrow, and she’s basically always invited. Which means a free pass at drinks and drugs for a whole night. Two things she very quickly gained a liking for. Though she’s managed to step out of the crowd of people in the living room to text Jonas again, still hopping along to the thud of the bass in the speakers. It almost seems to rattle the house, both the dancing and the music, along with whatever decorations Ren set up the day before.

Jonas  
  
W8 are you here???

Fake cobwebs, skeletons and jump-out props, anything the guy could think of to try and make a haunted house party. Alex carves a path through the house, surveying as she goes, before finally stumbling around to the foyer. Not too many people left in here, but it’s easy enough to spot Jonas— no costume. She just grins, running at him to jump onto his torso and cling there. He can see the two sets of fangs in her mouth, one for each pair of canines. 

“_Heyyyyyyy, _Jo-Jo!”

-

Well, he doesn’t exactly have a choice except to catch her, does he? Jonas’s phone clatters to the floor, because he needs that hand to hold Alex up (though she does have a surprising grip). The wind isn’t _ quite _ knocked out of him, but he takes a step back before recovering. 

“Alex.” It’s a bit stilted, but there’s an edge of wry amusement.

She’s… more energetic than he’d expected. For some reason he’d been worried she might be… well, more on the falling-over, stumbling-and-passing-out side of things. Apparently, not. She’s maybe tipsy, sure, but her eyes aren’t glazed over - not yet, anyway - and she’s grinning like a madwoman, so. About par for the course on that end. 

Aaand now he feels stupid for coming. For being worried at all. Like he was gonna come pluck her out of the midst of something nefarious. Stupid. She’s perfectly at home in this place, or at least she seems like it. He lets out half a laugh, making a short gesture and raising a brow at her little fangs. “Cute.” The word, deadpan as it is, is out of his mouth before he realizes what he’s saying. Very quickly his eyes leave her, traveling over the rest of the party, and he gradually lets her down as he looks over his surroundings. 

Well… he’s here already… “So. This is Ren’s place?”

-

Her tongue runs along her teeth when Jonas mentions the fangs, and she’s still grinning when he puts her down, brushing off her skirt and glancing over the pair of heels she’d only worn to this because it matched the outfit. “Mmhm! Well— Ren’s place mid rager. C’mon, I was just about to drink some idiots right under the fuckin’ table!” 

Before he can say anything, Alex has grabbed onto his wrist and starts dragging him toward the kitchen, where it looks like a kind of drinking game is about to start, with one already in progress. She grins even wider.

“Oh, this’ll be _ easy. _God, they’re already trying to go down.” Two boys - one a zombie, one Freddy Krueger - are both downing solo cups of cheap beer as quickly as they can. Apparently, the game is over when one of them passes out, or can’t hold back their last cup. She looks absolutely thrilled. 

-

He might have been a little less willing to follow along, but hey: free drinks. No parental supervision. Probably weed somewhere, based on what Alex had said before. He can try to be a role model all he wants, but these people are loaded and probably have the good shit. And even if they don’t… well, he’s not that picky. 

Most people seem to be going for the kegs in the backyard - also, pool, that’s a thing to keep in mind, though who would want to be out there when it’s under 55 degrees out, he doesn’t know - so he lets Alex keep an eye on the festivities (and keeps an eye on her) as he goes to the counter and pours himself a rum and coke. He’s a bit behind everyone else at this point. And parties can be… stressful. Mostly when he doesn’t know anyone. So maybe the drink is a little strong. Or a _ lot _ strong. And maybe he downs it quick, grimacing, and fixes another just as strong before gradually returning to the table where Alex is grinning maniacally. 

-

By the time he’s returned, Alex has already started her round of the game. Some quarterback from a year behind her dressed like a werewolf is the one that challenged her, though it’s hard to tell who’s winning on the first cup. He finishes before her with a pleased sounding grunt, but she’s got more than a few tricks up her sleeve. Soon they’re on three drinks. Four. Alex doesn’t look any worse for wear as she settles her fifth cup upside down onto the table, cooing as she licks her fangs again. A bit of a distraction tactic, but it almost always works. Can’t go wrong with high school boys.

Once they hit nine, he looks about ready to tap out, but she convinces him for one more. That one in turn she finishes off before the poor kid can even get a good start, and in a huff he starts to stand— and then falls right over into a heap. Cheers go up from the crowd that’s gathered around the table, and Alex squeals slightly, still with that grin as manic as ever. First win of the night.

-

“Hey.”

Jonas turns (because he can’t just stare at Alex all night, that’s gonna be _ real _ noticeable), and comes face to face with a girl who looks vaguely familiar. Maybe fifth period? He’s got no clue what her name is, but she’s flushed and wearing— well, it’s pretty standard for Halloween, isn’t it? Still, a lot lower cut than an average school day. And he very quickly pulls his eyes back to her face. She’s grinning, biting her lip. 

“Jonas, right?”

Okay, that’s… well, not ideal. But whatever. “Mhm.” It’s maybe a little rude. He takes another long sip of his drink. She doesn’t seem to care. 

Her hand lifts, fingers wiggling in a little wave. “Annabel,” she introduces. 

Whoever just bumped into her definitely didn’t bump her _ that _ much, but she stumbles into him anyway, her raised hand splayed over his chest, and he has to steady her. She doesn’t move away. “So… what are you doing here?” Not the most polite question, but the batting eyelashes soften the blow. 

Jonas glances back towards Alex, realizes he’s just looked at Alex, and quickly surveys the rest of the room as well, taking another long sip as he turns back to the girl. “Friend of a friend.” He’s a bit laconic, but it’s to be expected. He’s not much of a talker anyway. 

“Really?” There’s literally no reason for her to still be talking to him. But she seems engaged regardless, all big smile and wide eyes. “That’s so funny! I’ve never seen you at one of Ren’s things.”

He doesn’t even bother shrugging both shoulders, just tilting his head a bit to the side as he downs the rest of his drink, nose burning from the onslaught of carbonation. So the cold shoulder obviously doesn’t work for this girl. “Right.” He pulls her hand off of his chest, taking a step back. “Cool. Bye.” Yeah, he’s fine being a little rude. Or very rude. Adds to the _ ‘please stop talking to me’ _ vibe he’s got going. Jonas fills his cup for a third time, surreptitiously glancing over to check that the girl has left before returning to the table to check up on his charge for the night.

Alex has… 

Well, that’s… unexpected. Okay so… he’d guess that that’s her opponent, quite literally drunk under the table. Alex doesn’t look 100%, but she’s definitely doing better than that guy, and the crowd seems to agree. He shoulders through the mass, leaning toward a fellow bystander to make his inquiry as to what exactly he missed. 

Okay, chugging ten cups - even if they’re not full, even if the beer is weak - is maybe not a good idea. Gradually, Jonas migrates toward her side, glancing over her cautiously. He’s super tempted to just… kinda… throw her over his shoulder and get her out of here. But that’s maybe an overreaction. Instead he watches and waits expectantly for her to do something stupid. 

It probably won’t take too long, in all honesty. She’s Alex.

-

Another one of the football players steps up in an attempt to earn some respect for his buddy. Alex just sets herself up for another round, resettling her cups as someone starts to pour again. They reach the end of the second, and then he starts talking.

“Come here often, little miss devil?” There’s a teasing hint in his voice, and she just stares at him for a long while. This is a drinking game, she isn’t here to make small talk. 

Alex talks anyways. “Friend owns the place.”

“Ah, damn, that must make you Alexandra.” Third cup. It silenced him for a bit, but he seems to be going deliberately slower. It pisses her off a bit, but she doesn’t comment. No point. She’ll smoke him anyways. “I’m Bryan.”

“It’s just Alex, Bryan.” A flash of those fangs. It looks like he’s more than happy to see them. “Call me Alex.”

-

She’s doing another round. Why. 

Jonas heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Takes another drink. Should hit eventually. 

He’s close enough to hear the table talk, and— A scoff forces its way out of him. “Stalling. Drink.” His voice is louder than he intended and - okay, maybe that first drink _ is _ finally hitting. But hey, others seem to agree, because there are a few more jeers at the kid spending his turn chatting up Alex instead of following through on his end of the contest. 

The annoyed glance he gets from the kid is tempered with a little hesitation. Jonas might have a slight glowering energy that he gives off. A bit of _ don’t fuck with me. _

Not enough, apparently. 

“Pretty sure _ you’re _ not in this round.”

“Want me to be?” Yeah, drinks are definitely starting to hit. 

-

Alex purses her lips at the two boys arguing, and reaches out enough to drag the player’s chin back toward her as she finishes off her fourth and fifth cup. Okay, maybe she needs to slow down. Just a little bit. But now he’s choking because of such a light touch, and that’s really hilarious. Unfortunately, she can’t really laugh, otherwise she spits up her drink and loses. So she just keeps drinking.

Now he’s struggling to catch up with her, trying to down his drinks at the same speed, but it just isn’t working. Especially not when she’s staring at him the entire time, with her eyes hooded like she’d actually ever go for someone like him. Too bad once he’s spit up his sixth cup, she’s already left him in the dust, crowd equally amused and impressed at what she’s done.

-

Jonas is torn because - on the one hand, the kid is getting what he has coming to him. But on the other hand, Alex is drinking a _ lot_, very quickly. He watches her hesitantly, but she handles it surprisingly well. She’s definitely drunker than she looks, and probably feeling overfull and dizzy, but she’s not letting on. Until she leaves the table, that is. 

-

Alex stands, stumbles, heads for another room. That’s enough speed drinking for tonight. Is she going to regret this later? Probably. Was it worth it? Probably not. Oh well. Time to go purge, whenever her body feels the need.

-

There’s a stumble in her step, and he’s got an arm around her waist, pulling hers around his as well, ‘cause she’s way too short to reach his shoulders comfortably. “Yeah, bad idea.” He downs the rest of his drink and sets the empty cup on the nearest available surface. Geez, these people have a lot of _ stuff. _ “Where’s the bathroom?” 

-

Nope, not worth it, really not worth it. Even though she has to have done this a thousand times over, it never gets any easier. Alex leans onto Jonas as best she can, though luckily for them both, she isn’t completely gone yet. So she has enough brain power to start for the nearest bathroom, before running into someone else. In her English class, dressed like a cat of some kind, with an odd kind of smile on her face.

“Looks like my friend owes me five bucks.” 

Alex’s head tilts. “Five bucks for what?”

“You hooked up with the TA!”

Oh, God.

-

“No.” He’s stone-faced in his response, even though their position isn’t exactly opposing the idea. 

The girl - and she’s definitely part of the 7th period group, because he knows her face, he saw her stare after picking up Alex after her fainting spell - smirks at them, looking completely unconvinced. “Yeah, sure.”

What the hell is with people and sticking their noses in his business? Jonas glares. “Look, you want me to fail you?” He has no power to do any such thing, but the threat is coming from a pretty sincere place. The girl - he’s like 50% sure her name is either Megan or Molly - rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“So does that mean you’re helping _ her _ with _ her _ grade?” It doesn’t sound like an accusation, more like she’s so doubtful of his stance that she’s willing to tempt fate. Her unimpressed look of self-satisfaction furthers that idea.

Wow, she really didn’t get the message the first time. Jonas pulls himself up straight, as intimidating as he can get with Alex still half-limp at his side. “First of all: _ no._” The annoyance is growing the more he has to defend himself, his tone like ice. “What the fuck is with Camena, that a guy can’t just _ be nice _ without people assuming it’s about sex.”

Her eyebrows lift, and he immediately regrets using the s-word.

“She’s drunk.” His jaw is tight, because there’s a heat creeping up the back of his neck on top of the warmth of the alcohol, and he’s glaring. “Massively drunk. And unless you want to be the receptacle, I suggest you get out of my way.” 

Once more there’s a rolling of the eyes. “Whatever.”

She’s out of their hair in another few seconds, but Jonas already regrets not emphasizing his point. If she tells others, and it gets to any kind of staff… Despite not being a paid position, Jonas is pretty sure _ ‘fired for inappropriate conduct with a student’ _ isn’t gonna look good on his CV. 

Then again…Well, he doubts their little naps would be considered ‘appropriate.’ Even if they’re completely innocent. Jonas has started to think of it more like therapy, or a sleep study, or sleep therapy or something. He’s doing a service for her health. And if his head slips into other thoughts occasionally… well, it’s just in his head. No harm, no foul. 

-

Well shit. That’s one way to shake off a problem. Alex just stares as the girl walks away, still half out of it, before giving a shrug and starting to move again. At least she’s actually thought to bring more than just herself this time. Though she locks Jonas out of the bathroom. It’s not something he needs to see— specifically, her being a mess. Even though she’s kind of always a mess.

With no way to tell time, or really the desire to do so, Alex promptly pukes half her guts up. Not fun, and not worth the two wins._ Really _ not worth the two wins. At all.

-

Running into Meagan/Molly/maybe-not-even-an-M-name has made him paranoid. Alex locks him out of the bathroom and Jonas has to tell himself that that’s it, that’s his good deed done, and now he needs to stop hovering over her. So he steps away.

The rest of the party isn’t bad, per se. He’s a little nervous, ‘cause there are definitely his mom’s students here and… hhh that’s probably not good. But the alcohol helps. And when he steps out for air (and to bum a smoke off whoever’s on the patio, ‘cause he definitely didn’t bring a pack), he finds a kid who he’s like 90% sure he’s seen around campus at the college, so maybe he’s not the only one out of high school at this thing, which is a massive relief. 

His phone is missing. He’d dropped it to catch Alex in her overenthusiastic greeting and now it’s nowhere to be found. Not the best feeling in the world, but there’s not a ton he can do about it at the moment. It’s a shitty model, a massive crack in the case, so hopefully no one will take it. He’s a little more worried about it getting stepped on and smashed. 

He’s hardly gone for fifteen minutes before Jonas finds himself mentally already on his way back to her— with a brief detour into the kitchen to seek out another drink for him and some Gatorade for Alex, because she’s gonna need it. Hopefully her nausea is gone, for a bit, but that alcohol is still gonna be running rampant through her system, and sooner or later she’s gonna need some kind of hydration. After opening a few cabinets, he determines that if there _ are _ any painkillers, they aren’t here. There are a few locked cabinets, but he’s not about to break out the picks when he doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. And he doubts Ren’s parents would appreciate missing… whatever. Liquor, maybe, or prescription pills, or just fine china— whatever they’re locking up. Then again, it feels like they have plenty to spare. 

Eventually, Jonas is back outside the bathroom door, the three rum and cokes pounded in quick succession now definitely doing their job ‘cause things feel a little softer around the edges. If he stops focusing he can hear the blood in his ears and the fizz of soda in his throat. For a couple minutes he does - sitting against the wall, taking a breath, a drink, a breath - his head getting all… loose for a moment. Then he remembers that it’s probably not great to leave Alex unsupervised after binging way too much. This is how people choke and die.

-

It has to be twenty or thirty minutes before she manages to right herself again, rummaging through her bag (which she only ever uses for these parties) for a toothbrush. A master class of dealing with aftermath. Great.

-

Pulling himself back to his feet, Jonas is about to knock on the door, to ask if everything’s alright, when it’s already opening. 

-

Alex pops back out of the bathroom with fresher breath, fixed lipstick, and a somewhat smug expression. Even if it’s a little green. “Well. I sure as hell smoked those guys, huh? Two sportsman down in one night.”

-

Glancing down at her, one shoulder against the door frame, Jonas doesn’t try to hide his surprise. “You look… good.” Shit, she shouldn’t look good, she’s absolutely sloshed, how did she recover like that? His brow furrows, because this is a dangerous thing, looking more sober than she is, especially when she must be really feeling it. “Jesus Alex, pace yourself.” He thrusts the Gatorade towards her, leaving his own drink forgotten on the side table. “No more alcohol. You’re cut off. I’m cutting you off.”

-

Alex didn’t expect him to be right at the door when she came out, but he has a bottle of Gatorade, so he must’ve gone somewhere in the time she’s been silently hating her choices. Though she’s more than a little startled when he just shoves the bottle at her, fumbling with her grip for just a moment before getting it settled. Everything is probably going to start spinning soon. That’s fine. Alex gnaws at her lower lip, and manages a punchy kind of laughter.

“You really have no idea how often I do this, do you? Figured you could make the assumption.” That she’s blackout drunk on the regular whenever she goes to things like this. And sometimes alone, like an idiot, but those had worked out okay. “Kinda prepped to be absolutely hammered by the end of tonight. But hey, by all means. Cut me off. Wouldn’t know when to quit anyways.”

Self-destructive behavior has always been a bit her thing. Even when Michael was alive, she’d always find some way to rebel, even if she was far better about it because of his reputation. In the meantime, Alex had stayed in the shadows, and she’d been fine with that. But being thrust into the limelight by something so negative— it had only made her worse. Clearly. 

She pops the top on the Gatorade, takes a sip, leans against her own side of the doorframe. 

-

Jonas pulls a face at her casual dismissal. Great. If he weren’t already attached to her, this could’ve been a problem. As it is, it’s just a nuisance. But hey; guardian time. It’s what he’d expected when coming over, anyway. Just hadn’t figured her inebriation would be so self-inflicted. 

“How are you not, like, passed out right now?” He shifts his weight, rolling to put his back to the wall, glancing to her over his shoulder with a thin-lipped smirk. “Is this some kinda weird dark magic thing?” Weekend before halloween. Dressed like a vampire. Who knows. 

The music pumping through the first floor changes, something a little too upbeat blasting through the rooms. After a brief surge of energy, Jonas frowns. As much as he’s fine with the music, it’s gonna be hard to keep an eye on her if she gets too rambunctious. He leans over, because the change in volume is _ noticeable_, and ends up not-quite-shouting at her shoulder. “Is there anywhere quieter at these things?”

-

She just shrugs at him, trying to match volume, “I don’t usually venture much further than the dance floor! I mean, Ren probably has some people smoking up downstairs?” Not a long shot, but one that might make Jonas think twice about heading into the basement. Mostly because of the drugs, but it isn’t like that’s new. Hardly.

-

“Oh, perfect.” He’s been meaning to take advantage of the kid’s connections for a while now. 

If his easy acceptance of the idea - most definitely more illegal than other things he’s given her a hard time about before - surprises Alex, she doesn’t show it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _HALLOWEEEEEN_


	19. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A quick heads up that this chapter may straddle the T-to-M line)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Had some personal stuff going on, made it hard to write (and have been putting off some graphics stuff for posting CJGJ), so productivity is low. But there's still backlog, at least ^^
> 
> Oh, another note: neither of us claim to be experts at anything involving parties, drinking, drugs, etc, but props to Artemis for helping beta for believably. If it's still not believable, oh well *shrug* We write for fun. =]

[ ](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/post/610975181295550464/blue-hair-red-jacket-alexjonas-jonass-mom)

**FIFTEEN**

Alex slowly pulls herself from where she’s been leaning, instead holding onto one of Jonas’s forearms to keep herself steady. Sure, she doesn’t look all that drunk, but she definitely needs to sit down soon. Even with the added support, she eventually both gives up on her heels and stumbles a few times on the steps. At least she doesn’t fall over. 

True to form, Ren has about five or six people gathered around him, a bong making the rounds between a couple, a joint passed between a few others. And Ren sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the table, three little bags of bud arrayed before him. Always the conscientious host, looking out for his guests preferred high. 

The music here is far more muffled, seeing as the speakers are in the living room and they’re about as far away from that as they can get. Alex drops her heels at the foot of a beanbag chair mostly shuffled off into the corner, following after just a moment before they hit the ground. Sitting is good. Sitting keeps the room from spinning too much. 

-

“Here for a hit, or the long haul?” The kid is grinning, but at least seems a little calmer than the last time Jonas encountered him. His choice is obvious - made more obvious when he graciously accepts the joint being passed. 

Jonas hesitates in the dimly lit doorway as Alex tumbles inside. 

Apparently Blondie has taken his hesitation for confusion. He gestures to his disciples. “Head high,” to the bong, “body high,” to the passed joint, and then he opens his hands to the single unlit joint before him on the table; “-or baby’s first hit.”

Jonas lets out a breath, taking in the general funk of the atmosphere as he moves forward. “Just keep her from killing herself, huh?” He gestures vaguely toward Alex. “Just drank two jocks under the table.” He doesn’t get too close to the action, instead shedding his jacket and collapsing on a plush too-big recliner by the long haul-ers. 

Ren’s eyebrows raise as Jonas comes into the dim light. “Mystery TA man.” He looks a bit too happy, in a way that reminds him too much of that M-girl from earlier, but Jonas isn’t about to complain to the guy providing the pharmaceuticals. Instead he just rolls his eyes and grunts a begrudging acknowledgement of the name. 

-

Once she’s sure Jonas is actually in the room, and sure that she isn’t about to fall over anymore, Alex splays herself out on her beanbag, feeling carpet underneath stocking-covered toes and closing her eyes. One of them opens when she feels a tug at her skirt, but it’s just Ren tugging it further down, that far off smile on his face. Without a word, he passes her a blunt and a lighter. 

Well, she has to hand it to him. He’s at least more aware of her situation than she is. Which, more often than not, is reversed. There have been more than a few times where she’s saved Ren’s ass for a multitude of different reasons. 

Most of them related to covering for him. Though for now she just sticks the thing in between her teeth, closes her eyes again, tries to be at least _ a bit _more modest, and settles herself in. 

-

The guy has a blunt already rolled for her, just sitting in his shirt pocket. Great. Best friends, clearly. 

Jonas leans forward to get in on the passing of the joint, taking a long hit and passing it on, exhaling as he sinks back into his seat. Now this shit takes him back. Getting crossfaded in some dude’s basement. Junior year all over again. 

He looks around, taking in the dimly lit room, the drinks forgotten on various surfaces. Shit, he should have water. Pulling himself out of his very comfy chair, Jonas looks to the host. “Ren, right?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Not to be ungrateful or anything, but you got anything to drink?”

He waves a hand back behind the couch. “There’s a fridge in the first room on the left, next to the bathroom, help yourself. Mi casa, su casa, et cetera.” 

Jonas is only a few steps away when he feels everything starting to mesh. By the time he’s back, having hit the head and grabbed a water bottle, he’s ready for a second hit. He cracks the bottle, takes a sip, and checks out the rest of the smoking circle. Seeing Alex, he raises an eyebrow. “What, so you’re gonna just smoke that whole thing yourself?” he deadpans, shooting Ren an incredulous look. How does ‘don’t let her kill herself’ equate to ‘let her smoke a full blunt by herself, way too quickly’? 

“Alex, be polite, share with mystery TA man.” Ren pats her patronizingly on the knee, and Jonas knows it’s entirely for his sake and rolls his eyes.

-

Alex stares at both Ren and Jonas for a second, seeming mostly dazed, before heaving a sigh and starting to pull herself up again. “His name is Jonas. Seriously, are people just deaf…”

Despite the matter of her tone, she seems more than comfortable to roll out her neck and shoulders in the middle of walking over to the other, settling herself in his lap. No more space on the rest of the armchair, anyways. 

“Special blend Ren makes me sometimes, Jonas. There’s a reason why I only ever do this sparsely.” Ren seems a little bit full of himself at the fact that Alex prefers his blends, but she’s focused on something else. Some_one _else.

It might be the hazy atmosphere, it might be the fact that she’s had far too much to drink, or it might just be that she’s finally unhindered with whatever ideas of a taboo were in her head beforehand. But Alex is as close to Jonas as she can get, smiling again, fake fangs glinting in the small amount of light filtering into the room. One of her arms wraps around Jonas’s shoulders in a lazy motion, free hand toying with his hair. 

-

He knows that he should be a lot less comfortable with this. But he’s well buzzed and heading to a high, and he doesn’t have the energy to be tense right now. His hands are still on the arm rests, ‘cause he’s not planning on holding on to her, that’s just… 

Jonas sighs, shoots Alex an admonishing look. But he takes the offered blunt. The words come on the exhale, smoke breaking against her skin: “Not helping with the rumors, Alex,” he murmurs lowly. Her fingers in his hair are… distracting. Also, kind of confusing? ‘Cause this is like… Well. Jonas considers for a second, that a _ lot _ of Alex’s behavior can be read as flirting, and yet it never seems to be.

“The rumors are true-mors…” Ren singsongs to himself, rolling a new joint as the first one gradually dwindles as it goes. 

Jonas shoots him a look that would be a glare, but instead is just annoyed. Kinda hard to be mad at the moment. Kinda hard to focus at the moment, really. Though that’s not to say he isn’t aware. Isn’t _ very _ aware. There’s a girl in his lap, he can’t exactly ignore it. 

-

Alex’s smile goes from something paced to a full on smirk, as she takes the blunt back from Jonas with a shrug. There’s some truth to what that jock had called her: a little devil. With how much trouble she decides to cause constantly, it’s no surprise the nickname has been earned. More than earned, in most cases.

“You really think I care about the rumors, Jo-Jo? Since when have I been the type?” She kicks her feet back and forth against the chair, humming softly to herself. Alex is still looking at him, though. For all the other people in the room, for all the things she _ could _ focus on, Miss Blue Curaçao has chosen him. “There isn’t even a reputation to keep up. No point in it.”

Ren seems more than pleased with the situation. He quietly passes the joint to someone else, one eyebrow slowly raising at Alex’s behavior. “Oooh… you’ve got it now.” There’s a pause as he snorts, laughing slightly; “Good luck.”

-

There are a number of things floating through Jonas’s head that he wants to say. The first that manages to find its way out of his mouth is, “Jo-Jo is a no go,” and immediately he grimaces. Unintentional rhyming. Bad. Ren’s little half-laugh in response is just proof that he is most definitely eavesdropping on their conversation. Jonas looks at him for a second before remembering what else he wanted to say to Alex. 

“You might not, but I kind of do.” His voice is still low, intended for her ears only, and when he realizes that, he wonders if that makes this even more suspicious. “I mean—” He rolls his eyes, “Not in so many words, but like. Y’know. TA. Like whatserface said, there’s like— like ethics stuff.” 

Okay but wait, like. The fact that she’s bringing this up at all. She’s constantly joking and teasing and he can never tell when she’s serious so— is this serious? Is she… Well, she seems to be implying _ something. _ He’s not entirely sure what, at the moment, but it definitely involves him. And her. A theory that he’s not as opposed to as he should be. 

-

“Ethics? Jesus Christ, Jonas.” Alex’s bubbly little giggle sounds like something so foreign, but it’s not bad. It’s contagious, seeing as Ren starts laughing right after she does, but she calms herself back down enough to sit up and start combing both of her hands through Jonas’s hair. 

He’s talking to her about ethics. She’s definitely not going to remember any of this, at all, and he chooses to talk ethics. Because of some Maggie or Molly or whatever. She hasn’t seen much tonight, but she’s at least somewhat aware that girls would most definitely go for a college student hanging around a party. She’s just… preventing that from happening.

And also maybe taking more enjoyment out of the closeness than she should. Ren is cooing something teasing, and Alex turns herself around enough to click her tongue at him, the motion too slow, too soft for her. Now it’s kicking in.

-

Jonas lets out a long breath, too aware of how good it feels when she’s touching him. He plucks the lit blunt from her hand, taking another hit and realizing he probably should’ve taken that opportunity to stop her. Whatever her blend is, it’s making him feel things a lot more intensely than the chill strain he’d had first hit. He tries to keep his train of thought. It’s not particularly easy. “…Y’know most people consider ethical behavior a positive trait…” he murmurs, and his eyes are closing despite himself, for just a moment.

She’s real close. Right? Real close. 

He’s not tired. Not exactly. Just… She found a spot for him, and it’s working. He groans softly, half ‘cause it feels nice and half ‘cause she’s being manipulative and he needs to make his irritation clear. 

Then he gets his eyes open again, shooting her a disapproving glance. “I don’t get why you dressed like a vampire when you’re so obviously just an imp. A poltergeist.” Is that what that word means? She’s causing trouble is what she’s doing. 

-

She fakes a confused kind of look, but it doesn’t last long. “I mean, that Sportacus did call me a little devil. Maybe there’s a point to all of that, hmm? Maybe I’m not as nice as I seem.” 

“Maybe…” Alex has been getting progressively closer to Jonas’ face as she speaks, voice low, those fake fangs still poking out from her lips. It looks like she’s about to kiss him— really, she _ wants _to kiss him, that would just be absolutely divine— but it also might not get the reaction she wants. So instead, she lets that mischievous note back into her words; “I bite!”

It isn’t hard enough to leave any kind of a mark, and it barely lasts, but she makes a show of tilting her head to lean down and bite the side of his neck. The odd thing about it is the fangs, how they drag across skin even as she pulls away, leaving little white lines in their wake.

-

Breath sucks in quick between his teeth. His hands tighten on the armrests, the poor blunt denting between his fingers, and he shifts a bit in his seat, jostling her, because _ shit— _ that’s— that— It’s like it woke him up. Somewhat. Or just shocked him into lucid dreaming? Things are weird. Either way, his breath feels too heavy and skin too warm, and he immediately can’t stop imagining returning the favor because _ that— _ that _ has _ to be a thing, right? Like, a girl doesn’t just do that on a whim. As a joke. 

_ Unless she’s Alex… _

She pulls back and he’s not quite glaring at her. Not a glare just… intense. He’s trying to read her. Because she’s absolutely insane. And with her on his lap she’s at just the right height for him to lean forward and nip at her shoulder in return, but that seems like a horrible idea. Well, it _ seems _ like a great idea, but _ now is not the time_. 

The other smokers have struck up a conversation about something or other, they’re forgotten in their chair not even ten feet away. Why isn’t it the time? Right, student. And he’s… Well, he’s not even really a TA, is he? Just a volunteer. There’s nothing _ technically _ wrong with him hooking up with a student. They’ve technically already _ slept _ together, in the literal sense.

The whole time he’s thinking his brow is furrowed, like he’s attempting to solve a particularly difficult math problem. It is very _ very _ hard to focus on anything aside from her at the moment. The alcohol, the weed… he is severely intoxicated, and she’s probably part of that as well. 

Wait, when did he move? His free hand is around her, cupping the curve of her thigh where it rests on his legs, and this time when he shifts in his seat he pulls her a little closer. He takes another toke, playing with the smoke a second before inhaling. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a skirt.” His voice is basically a hum, and he’s not sure when he decided to do it, but his fingertips are playing with the edge of her hem. The substances are clearly a little more in control than he is at the moment. 

-

“I’m not particularly the skirt-wearing type, but for a good look, it’ll do.” This is a terrible excuse for small talk. Alex is half wrapped up in Jonas, and she doesn’t even care, ruffling bits of hair with her fingers before taking the blunt again. Between just the two of them, they’re working through it fairly quickly, but that definitely isn't a problem right now. She shifts enough in his lap to blow the smoke back into his face, sticking out her tongue through her teeth with the most smug expression Jonas has ever seen on her. 

Then again, this Alex seems softer in some ways. Dimmed down from her usual vivid presence. Music still thuds through the home, enough to rattle everyone above ground, but below it just sounds like a rhythmic kind of humming. Almost hypnotic. Almost. She sticks the blunt between her teeth again, and then her hands are roaming Jonas’s upper body, nails catching on fabric every so often. If he’s making grabs at her, she has every right to do the same. 

And maybe a bit more, but that can probably wait until they at least find a room. If it even goes that far. 

-

“Yeah, well—” Jonas is about to say _ it looks good_, but shuts up as she blows smoke at him. His lips hook into a wry smile, because that generally means one of two things and - honestly, it could be both. With her, who knows. When her hands start to wander, though… well, that seems to point toward one over the other. And shit if some part of him hasn’t been carefully repressing similar ideas. 

He’s already pretty much where he wants to be, high-wise. Doesn’t need to have any more, but he reaches for the blunt anyway, fingers brushing against her lips as he plucks it from her hold. They’ve worked it down a bit, and he ashes the end again. “Rude.” Shifting his legs once more, he bumps her a little closer, and she’s basically turned to face him - close as she can get without actually straddling him. 

“Pretty sure that was a mistake, yeah?” His gaze is holding hers and he thinks they might be on the same wavelength. There’s a light in her eyes, but that’s the Alex Standard. His fingers brush at the small of her back before he takes a hit, his hand skimming up her body to rest on the back of her neck, guiding her face to his with half a smirk before he’s streaming smoke into her mouth. It’s pretty useless, as far as high goes - he’s got most of it - but he’ll be damned if it’s not hot. Incredibly hot. Like, shit, his hand is tightening in her hair ‘cause he kinda wants to _ take her now _ hot. 

Whoops. 

-

Alright, well, Ren is definitely going to get her for this one. Not like she can deny it. Alex weaves her fingers into the back of Jonas’s collar, tugging back enough to get him to settle into the seat so she can actually adjust herself. 

And now she’s straddling him, and people are going to _ talk_, but fuck if she’s going to regret that. Especially if she doesn’t remember this. That might be a regret: being far too smashed to remember his fingertips close to her mouth, how warm he feels with the combination of alcohol and drugs… 

-

He’s happy to be pushed back against the chair. Even happier when she gets her legs around him, ‘cause— well, he’s not about to complain about being positioned between her thighs. Once the smoke has dissipated, Jonas’s hand untangles from her hair and ends up on a knee, his thumb kneading at her skin, but never climbing more than a couple inches toward her skirt hem in a lazy, vaguely exploratory move as he watches her. 

-

She needs to slow down. 

Alex never slows down. Of course she’s had the thought to, but she doesn’t. Instead she lets Jonas take control for maybe a few more minutes before taking the blunt from him and offering up one of those telltale crooked grins. It’s a slow drag, savored, as she stares him down. She grabs a hold of his chin, and then she isn’t just blowing smoke into his mouth, she’s kissing him. There isn’t any fresh air, and her black lipstick smudges against his skin, those fangs of hers nicking his lips before Alex pulls away all too quickly. 

Because that’s Jonas’s job, of course. To chase after her. Bright eyes, blue hair, red jacket. For right now, all of it is his. 

-

If he were paying more attention, Jonas might be caring a hell of a lot more about what’s going on. Outside of him and Alex, that is. But his attention is firmly on her, and he’s a little lightheaded from recycled air, and a quick few hits in short succession. She takes her drag and he’s already pulling the blunt out of her hands, setting it in the ashtray, and— and then she’s kissing him. Which… yeah. That’s… that’s her kissing him. The smoke fills the breath circulating between them, curling over their skin, and he’s suddenly quite glad both his hands are free again, with both now splayed on her thighs. 

And then she pulls away, with that impish grin. 

“Nuh-uh.” Jonas’s head is shaking all on its own, a little too tight and fuzzed around the edges, and he’s leaning toward her again, a hand hooking into the front of her costume’s bodice to pull her towards him, angled to catch her lips eagerly - maybe too eagerly - a hell of a lot more enthusiastic than might have been expected from his behavior up until this point. He feels himself melting into the chair and wants her melted right on top, and everything feels warm and slow and close. The hand not pulling her to him is apparently climbing up her leg, though he doesn’t recall thinking it should. His head can’t pinpoint what exactly she tastes like, all he knows is she _ feels _ fantastic, his lips are practically tingling, and he’s way too fascinated with the sensation of fingertips traveling from nylon stocking to bare skin and back again. 

-

And chase he did. 

She’s vaguely forgotten the fact that this is a _ recliner _ before Jonas has her tucked on top of him, and she’s certainly not complaining about the fact, one hand still twisted into his hair while the other wraps itself back around him. Alex just wants to be close— _ needs _ to be close. It’s a tug in her chest, and she’s not quite sure if it’s from a whole lot of substance abuse or some very choice hidden emotions, but for once she doesn’t ignore it. Her thighs squeeze almost too casually at Jonas’s waist, trapping him securely in one spot. No more dodged questions. No more thinking. 

In the meantime, Ren has gone through about fifteen emotions all at once. Sure, he’s used to your average sloppy makeout session, but this one has some charge to it. That, and Nona dropped by with someone’s phone not too long ago, which means he’s also gotten his significant other in the room. 

They’re settled on the floor in a heap, and Alex just barely notices the two, staring at herself and Jonas. Eh, isn’t the first time. Definitely not the last. Hopefully not the last. It feels too good.

-

Some distant part of him is aware that this would make more sense in a bed. Or even on a couch, really. But he’s pretty sure his legs are lead now, ‘cause he’s not getting out of this chair without a hell of a lot more motivation that he has. His primary motivation at the moment, actually, is keeping him right where he is. Sound has zeroed in to just their own breath, the sound of fabric against fabric, and fabric against skin, and skin against skin. 

He’s kissed someone while high before, but never quite this… intensely. And it _ is _ rather _ intense. _ It’s almost like he’s half in a dream, and for a split second he thinks that wow that would super suck, and being awake is really better for this sort of thing, and God he really hopes he’s not asleep right now. 

But then his hands are creeping upwards and the one that had pulled her close by the front of her costume is sliding up, around the back of her neck, tangled in her hair and rubbing a thumb along her jaw, against the hollow under her ear where he’s extra aware of muscle like wire and a pulse echoed in the throb of his fingertips. It’s not entirely fair, ‘cause his hands are big and he can sort of just move her head the way he wants with a firm enough grip round the back of her neck.

His hand kneads into the muscles at the nape of her neck as his lips break from hers, skimming skin that feels buttery soft against his lips, sucking a kiss under her jaw, tasting her pulse point against his tongue, breathing in the potential energy that’s bubbling at the surface. His teeth nip at her for a second, mouth buzzing in a low groan, and the pulse in his lips is the pulse of her blood is the pulse of the music upstairs.

Jonas is, as a matter of fact, _ very _ high. 

And once more it takes a moment of lag to recognize the sensations from the other side of his body, from the hand that’s been plucking fingers along the top of her stockings like a guitar string, that at some point slid far enough up her thigh that it’s mostly covered by a jostled skirt and he can feel heat rolling off of her. Joans’s breath washes over her neck, audible though not quite panting, hand scooping back and under her leg as he adjusts them both, dimly aware that now is not the time nor place. Instead, he pulls back a bit, fingers tracing loose swirled patterns teasingly over bare skin as he tries to once more get all parts of him coordinated at once. 

-

_ Oh. _That is… Alex tips her head back, though it’s mostly just following his hand, the one time her stubborn hardheadedness cracks under the pressure. She’s she’s conflicted, torn between accidentally calling attention to them because of the public setting (then again, when has she ever cared?) and just letting Jonas do what he wants. The second one of those two options wins out. Being in a chair makes positions a little bit difficult, and the fact that she can’t completely tangle her legs around his torso is admittedly kind of annoying.

At least he’s close enough to hear her, because she may be quiet, but that by no means diminishes enthusiasm. Bitten-full lips half parted as she croons, words falling short somewhere between affirmations and his name, hands absentmindedly crawling underneath the fabric of Jonas’s shirt to run her fingernails along his spine. This is close. This is dangerous, not for any fear of harm, but because people might be less inclined to forget than Alex is right now. But her eyes slip closed as she presses up against him, breath hot on his neck— and then he stops. 

Goosebumps form wherever his fingers lazily slide, and her chest hitches upward in a strangled kind of gasp. Nope. No recovery from that. Alex tilts her head gingerly to press her lips against his ear, voice almost a whimper. “_Jonas_… Why’d you stop?”

-

Every noise she makes is straight fucking heroin. And— fuck shit fuck, her touch tracing down his spine is— his back arches toward her a bit, unable to prevent the reaction even if he wanted to. Then— _ Jesus fucking Christ, _ the way she says his _ name_. The thin needy whine to it, it’s even better than her touch. Something tugs in his stomach, a pressure tickling low in his abdomen, like an itch tormenting him, breath hitching for a second. 

Everything happens too slowly, but it just gives him more time to _ feel _ it. The hand on her neck scratches down her back and joins the other at her hips, fingertips grabbing maybe a bit too hard and thumbs sliding under the hem of her shirt to trace back and forth at her waistband. He can feel the play of temperatures in a way he never has before, the subtle difference on the pads of his thumbs, and savors it for a moment even if he forgets it almost instantly afterwards. 

He doesn’t respond verbally, but he nips briefly at her collarbone before going for the juncture of neck and shoulder, hidden behind a curtain of blue hair as he licks, sucks, and starts to bite down deep, riding the line of how-much-is-too-much, increasing pressure until he feels the shift and then releasing his grip, working back up her neck and scratching teeth at her earlobe, sucking a kiss on the side of her throat, finally coming back to her lips again. 

It’s probably good he’s stoned ‘cause otherwise he’d be far too eager. In his head he wants to be rocking against her, rolling his hips, grinding her down on top of him, but he can’t do too much at once and his mouth is busy and his hands have their rhythm, even if there is a bit of downward pressure. The rest is just in his head. Anything besides Alex is a smoke-hazed memory. At some point he knew there were other people in the room, now he just assumes there aren’t. If his eyes open at all they’re half-lidded and focused on her skin. 

(There are, of course, others in the room. People have come and gone. The ones that still remain are thoroughly blazed. Few of them will remember much of tonight after the second or third joint went around. Some are involved in their own conversations or observations. A couple are kind of focused on the unintentional show, though their attention is sleepy and warm and more along the lines of _ isn’t that nice. _ Others are just asleep. But at least one person, with some degree of skepticism and some degree of fascination, has taken it upon herself to document the event.)

-

Alex doesn’t want to stop. She doesn’t even think she has the capacity to, the brainpower, but if she did then it certainly wouldn’t be in use. Jonas’s touch is absolutely heavenly, and she wants nothing more than to return the favor, but she’s caught up in a haze of smoke and heat and _ want _. Her back curves, head dipping to nearly touch her shoulders as she gives him more area to work with. She has her tongue trapped between her teeth, biting at it for the absence of skin, moaning softly as pressure just builds and fuck that’s really good, that’s—

Ren’s voice breaks through the rest of the conversation. Background noise and hyperfocus fall away. “Alex, you aren’t allowed to get dicked down on my recliner.”

Another whine comes out of her. Did he really have to do that? She doesn’t care if it’s his recliner, or that she isn’t allowed to— hell, that might just make it more enticing. Breaking the rules is always something she’s up for. But apparently, he sees it otherwise. Which is annoying. Because Jonas is a goody two shoes and now he’s going to stop again. Ugh. _ Uuuuuuugh. _

-

The voice interrupts his steady movements, and Jonas’s lips break from hers, glancing up with some element of surprise, blinking for a second with heavy eyelids. His brain is gradually cranking back into gear. How long have they been at this? Longer than he’d think. “Shit man, sorry.” 

Once his eyes are off of her, Jonas slowly begins to take in the rest of the room again. He reaches for his water, keeping an arm around Alex’s waist, ‘cause he’s not quite ready to let go of her yet. Plus it’s kinda fun how easily she moves when he pulls her a little closer so he can use the hand around her to open the water. He downs half the bottle all at once before offering it to her. 

He looks back to Ren. “Do you, like… have? A—” He pauses for a second. He was gonna ask for a room. Is that… a good idea? 

He’s apparently been paused for longer than he thinks, ‘cause Ren is looking at him with a smirk. “‘A…’ what?”

Jonas shakes his head, too high to be sheepish. “Nah man, it’s cool. I’ll— I mean, we can stop.” 

-

Alex takes the bottle from him and finishes it off, tossing it somewhere to the side before settling back against Jonas’s chest. She can just wait for Ren to get distracted again, that’s all… then she can go back to kissing him. Perfect plan. Solid idea. So she waits, quietly watching as her best friend starts to busy himself with Nona and some other guests, but she is kind of tired. Just a bit. 

Once she’s fairly sure he’s been looking away long enough, Alex angles her head to lazily kiss at Jonas’s jawline, nipping at the thinner parts of his skin with a breathy hum. Even if she isn’t allowed to get— well, ‘dicked down’— she can still at least show affection. A whole lot of affection. Her hands are still underneath his shirt, and she’s gentle in curving them over his abdomen, up to his stomach and chest, drawn out and slow as she focuses on the sensation. 

It’s less intense, but it’s still nice. It’s still Jonas. Everything about him is nice. 

-

Jonas is taking in the rest of the room again. He’s not quite come to his senses, definitely not, but he’s aware enough to know this is a little public for what he’d been so keen to do just a couple minutes ago. Distantly aware. There’s two people laying on the ground between the recliner and the coffee table, one with his head rested on the other’s stomach, and he reaches out to Jonas with a joint in hand. They were still smoking? He takes it without thought. The blunt in the ash tray is out, this stick is lit and something a little mellower. 

He hums happily along with Alex as her lips move over his skin. It’s nice. Soft and warm. Jonas takes a hit off the joint and hands it back before turning to Alex, one hand resting well outside her skirt, giving a soft squeeze as the other finds her chin and repeats her motions of earlier, though the kiss is not broken so quickly. Everything is patient and lingering and decadent— and maybe a little sleepy. 

Breaking away for a second, Jonas rests his head on her shoulder, sighing, nuzzling against her. They should probably move. Get somewhere a little more comfortable. But every part of him feels heavy, like he’s just swathed in something soft. His arms wrap around her and he’s half-hugging half-holstered on her, hands hooked over her shoulders from behind. He kisses whatever’s right in front of him, and her skin is impossibly soft on his lips before he slows and just breathes against her. 

-

Alex certainly isn’t complaining about this. At all. She wraps herself up in him, still running her fingers over his chest, though it’s slowed to a more focused area when Jonas starts to slump over into her. Well, they are in a recliner… She has to duck away for just a moment, and that’s a regret, though once she’s pulled the stupid lever and actually pushed them both into laying down, it’s much better. 

God, he’s so warm. Alex repeats her usual not-quite-nuzzling of a headbutt, pressing her forehead against his chin while letting out a low sigh. This is slow, and sweet, and soft, and everything good she can possibly muster up in her mind. 

Eventually her hands slow, and then come to a stop, as Alex finally drifts to sleep. Which is probably both a blessing and a curse, considering she’s bound to have a wicked hangover, but at least she isn’t able to be stupid anymore. Instead she’s all curled up against Jonas and shifting every so often, splayed over his chest and content.

-

The sudden shift backwards is a little jarring, and Jonas opens his eyes again, but she’s just stretching out her legs until she’s laid half on/half next to him— as much as can fit in the chair, anyway. One of his hands is hanging over the side of the recliner, the other is around - under - her, and he might regret that in the morning, but for now it’s pretty nice. Eyes fall closed again as she snuggles into him, and he tilts his head to kiss her forehead, maybe a little sloppily, head lolled against the back of the chair and nose pressed into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should this change rating? It feels TV-14, but I never know if that should be T here or M. Thoughts?


	20. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for some drama?

[ ](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/post/611157756850880512/blue-hair-red-jacket-alexjonas-jonass-mom)

**SIXTEEN**

“Hey bud. Mornin’.” 

Jonas’s head turns toward the voice and he rubs a hand over his face, head feeling full of cotton and hammers. Fuck. 

“Got your complimentary water and pain killers.” There’s a bottle being pushed into his hand, and gradually Jonas opens his eyes.

It’s the blond kid. Ren. It’s his house, right, yes, so this makes sense. The shit-eating grin on the kid’s face is less sensible. 

“Drink up, Jonas.” He holds out a palm with two little pills in it. 

Jonas’s brow is furrowed and he’s scowling. He goes to take the pills with his free hand only to find that he doesn’t _ have _ a free hand, just an arm seizing up with pins and needles. “Fuck, _ ow_-” Glancing to his other side, he is suddenly just a bit more awake, and realizing that there’s someone next to him. And he’s in a recliner. He slept in a chair. With Alex. “What the fuck Alex, my arm,” he grumbles. This isn’t new for them, exactly. She’s slept next to him before, or on him. Sleep therapy. But she doesn’t usually pin his arm under her.

Ren’s grin goes all giddy at Jonas’s seemingly unfazed reaction to Alex sleeping next to him. Like he’s just learned a secret. But Jonas, of course, is not looking at him. He’s pulling his arm free, Alex still passed out cold because - yeah, he remembers that, she fuckin’ pounded way too much beer just to get the upper hand on some jocks. Other things about the night are a little fuzzier, but his movement slows as he takes in the sight of her. Of the bruises spotting her neck. Of the very obvious bite mark. 

“…Shit.” Shit shit shit. 

And Jonas misses the gleeful shift in Ren’s smile at that single word. 

Okay so… So obviously he and Alex had done… something. They hadn’t actually fucked, right? That was— no, that didn’t happen. He’s like 85% sure it didn’t happen. With another glance at Alex, that goes up to 95 because despite the mess of her, her clothes seem mostly undisturbed. …Unless they did it mostly clothed? Has he done that before? No— no, Jonas would know if they’d slept together. Or— _ not-slept _ together, as the case may be. He’s racking his brain, trying to put together the events of the night before, and there’s a shift and a cracking noise as Ren opens the bottle for him. 

“Open up, no-longer-a-mystery-TA-man,” he grins, and when Jonas goes to correct him there are pills being tipped into his mouth and he’d rather have them then not, so he catches them and immediately gulps down some water, shooting Blondie an irritable glance. “You’re gonna want to get up,” Ren advises, casually. “She’s probably gonna retch as soon as she wakes up, and you’d rather not see that.”

Jonas’s eyebrows raise skeptically and he glances at Alex again. 

“Look, I love the girl, she’s my best friend, but this is a thing.” 

He sighs, and awkwardly scoots out of the chair. 

Yeah, she’s _ really _ out. That’s gonna be a nasty hangover.

His isn’t as bad as it could’ve been - he drank his drinks fast, but didn’t actually have that much, all things considered - but it’s still not pleasant. No light in the basement, though, that’s nice. His eyes gradually find their way back to Alex, that nagging haze at his memory frustrating him for both what he can’t remember and what he can.

Fuck. That was probably a bad idea. Yes, he’d been thinking about kissing Alex practically since he’d met her, but actually _ doing _ it was a different matter entirely. And it might not have been something he’d regret so much if it hadn’t been so obviously _ public_. His lips twist in a grim line, remembering someone commenting about it the night before. Assuming they were together. And Jonas had so vehemently said _ no_. 

And then they’d _ apparently _ gotten all hot and heavy. 

Shit. 

Once more Jonas scrubs a hand over his face, taking a long pull from the bottle, shaking his head - regretting it - and then looking around. They seem to be the only ones in the basement. Which could be very good or very bad. His eyes fall on the coffee table. “Oh, nice.” His missing phone. Perfect. One problem solved.

“Oh, that’s— that’s yours.” Ren’s eyes have gone slightly wide, and he snorts a bit. “Ha. Fitting.”

“Fitting?” Jonas deadpans, shooting the blond a sidelong glance before clicking his screen on. “Why ‘fit-’” He stops as the little notification bubbles fill his screen. Double shit. His mom. A few texts, a few missed calls.

Mom  
  
There better be a good reason you’re missing at 8am on a Sunday.  
  
Text me ASAP. I need to know you’re okay.  
  
Jonas, please tell me you’re alright.  
  
?  
  
??

He swipes to reply, shooting back a response. _ I’m okay, sorry, went to help a friend in crisis and ended up staying over. Be back for- _ He checks the time and winces. 2pm. And a battery drained down to 8% thanks to the alerts and the ringing.

Mom  
  
I’m okay, sorry, went to help a friend in crisis and ended up staying over. Be back for dinner. Need to charge phone so might not answer asap but I’m okay.

She’s not generally a worrier, but is definitely one to check in. Jonas feels even more guilty as a response starts typing almost immediately. In another minute, the wall of text fills his screen.

Mom  
  
Next time you go out to help someone, I’m going to need to know where you’re going. And that you got there safe. This weekend and next weekend are going to be bad nights for driving. Next time just text me and let me know you’re okay, no matter what time it is.  
  
Sorry. Will do.

Eugh. She’s been so nice about the whole ‘you’re in college now, you get to make your own mistakes, _ I trust you’_ stuff. Guilt is a crap way to start the morning. Or— afternoon. 

His eyes fall on the very obvious marks on Alex’s neck. A double-dose of guilt. Great.

“You have a charger?”

“Upstairs, at the bar.” Right, they have a bar. Christ. “Should be some leftover breakfast, too. Nona made pancakes. They’ll be cold by now, but feel free to nuke ‘em. She makes excellent pancakes. Best girlfriend ever.” 

-

Alex wakes up, and then regrets ever being conscious in the first place. For a long time she doesn’t bother moving, just squeezes her eyes shut and whines at nothing. She can hear Ren laughing in the background, and the sloshing of water, but he’s just being a huge fucking dick and she really doesn’t want to deal with his antics right now. When she does make herself sit up, the world spins so badly she’s about ready to pass out again— Though with a lot of coaxing from her friend, she manages to _ not _ throw up the painkillers and water when she takes them. Better than usual. Good, okay, cool.

Then she gets handed some clothes. Of course she’s stolen some of his before, but this is kind of new. “Uh, Ren… What’s this about?”

Oh no. There’s that shitty smirk of his. “In case you and Jonas ruined the last ones.”

Jonas? What the— She does _ not _ remember Jonas being here _ at all. _In fact, Alex doesn’t remember much after her first game against the jock. At least she’d won that. Just a little spark of pride at the realization, before Ren gently starts tugging her up, back to a bathroom and shoving her in after throwing the clothes into her arms.

“Just look in the mirror!”

“Ren, I already know I look like shit, you don’t have to-“ Bruises. Hickeys. A whole lot of them, all along her neck. And a bite mark. A really, _ really big _ bite mark. “Fuck. Fuck, shit fuck, what?”

She can hear Ren dying of laughter right outside the door. After changing into the outfit handed to her (one of his stupid button-up tees and a pair of jeans) she makes sure to throw a heel at him. And she doesn’t miss. Whatever happened last night that she can’t remember, it had to have been… _ eventful, _ is how she’d put it. But Jonas isn’t here. Which means she hopefully won't have to deal with the whole walk of shame bit. Alex pads her way upstairs after another few minutes of checking her phone (no new messages or calls, her mom knows her too well), and upon spotting Nona seated near the bar, instantly goes and wraps her arms around the smaller girl.

“Ah, sleeping beauty wakens. How’re you, Alex?”

“You’re warm.”

“Yeah I know.” Nona laughs softly at her obvious explanation, leaning back to ruffle Alex’s hair. “You certainly had a time, huh?”

“Yeah we can… call it that. What even happened? I don’t, uh. I drank a lot. Like a _ lot _a lot.”

-

Jonas managed to down a couple pancakes and a tall cup of orange juice in record time, plugging his phone in to charge. And then he’d gotten the little notification. Low on memory? Yeah, he kept— well, he’s not great at remembering to delete things, but he shouldn’t—

When he swiped into photos he’d stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. There were… a lot. And video. And the ones at the top, the most recent ones, filling his screen, were… damning. To say the least. The lighting in them is dim, but it’s Alex’s back, and she’s straddling— him, she’s straddling _ him_, oh shit. As soon as aforementioned pancake-maker Nona showed up, Jonas asked where he could get a shower, got a small quietly knowing smile, and was pointed up some stairs.

He’d taken the charger.

And now, standing in the bathroom, flicking from one picture to another… 

_ Fuck. _

So. Him and Alex. Alex and him. The video clips were short, maybe even accidental, but there was definitely movement. Audio was faint, but it was there: little noises under the echo of whatever music was pounding upstairs. Hearing them again - even just a hint of them - has his chest flushing and goosebumps standing on his skin. Right. Yes, she made very good noises. He kind of remembers that now.

Jesus fucking Christ, he’d been— demanding. And she’d been… weirdly accommodating? Compliant— or maybe complicit was the word. At least the evidence seems to make it clear that they’re both enjoying things. To the point that he’s kind of surprised they _ didn’t _ have sex, ‘cause things looked to be headed that way. But the last photos on the roll are the two of them in practically the same pose he’d woken in. It would be cute, maybe, if he could remember it. If he didn’t feel that heavy weight of guilt pooling in his stomach.

The shower isn’t a bad idea, and he could use one for… so many reasons. He still smells like weed, for one. And stale beer, though that seems to be more from osmosis than actually drinking the stuff. He could also just use a little time to… process. 

His clothes will have to be dealt with before he goes home, but for now he tries to just let them air out as he hops into the shower. 

Guilt is a bitch. And, the way his mind goes in the shower… about to be a lot worse. But hey… at least he’s kind of remembering? Maybe it will… help him feel better? 

Yeah, it doesn’t. Good, sure, maybe even euphoric for a half second, but then the guilt is back, and it’s worse, and fuck he’s so fucking stupid, why did he think this was a good idea to do at a party of all places. A crowded party. A _ high school _ party, with his mom’s _ student_. Whose skin he was even now trying to remember the taste of, despite his better judgment. 

God. Nope. Think about something else. Anything else. 

He scrubs the smell of smoke off of him, out of his hair, and tries to focus on logistics. He’ll need to get his clothes clean somehow, or change— but Ren is way too short for any of his clothes to fit, so maybe the solution is to find a way to launder his own stuff. And then he’s gonna need to get home, and explain to his mom… something. What had been his excuse? A friend in crisis, right. Well, that’s what he’d _ thought _ at some point, at least. Not the worst lie he’s told. 

Jonas steadily weaves together his alibi as he rinses off and steps out, wrapping a towel around his waist. His phone is still charging on the sink and he makes no move to look at it again. Glancing to his clothes, he hesitates a second. Yeah, they probably reek. He pulls open cabinets until he finds something to spray them with, and gives ‘em a good dousing. Well, the air at least smells cleaner. Not sure about the fabric. He pulls the door open, poking his head out in case he can see Ren and ask about clothes. No luck. 

Closing the door again, he contemplates his options. Finally, ruefully, he pulls back on his jeans, because he’s not about to go walking around a stranger’s house in a towel, and leaves his shirt hanging on the towel rack. Maybe by the time he figures out if he can wash it or not it will be a little less damning. After a moment of hesitation, he checks his phone. No new messages. He leaves it there. 

He can hear noise from the kitchen as he starts down the stairs. “Hey Ren, any chance I could-” He balks for a second as he looks up from his feet on the second to last step, glancing to the bar. Yep, that’s… that’s Alex. She is awake, and looking surprisingly good for being ridiculously hungover. 

-

Alex had been in the middle of trying to convince Nona to make her a fresh pancake (while also eating the ones she’d tossed in the microwave) when Jonas trails downstairs. Which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because holy shit he’s shirtless and that is something she would _ love _ to see at all times, and a curse because he’s shirtless and Ren said something about him. Which might mean she did something stupid. Or he did something stupid, but that isn’t the most likely answer. She takes her fork out of her mouth to wave it at him, and Nona is clearly trying to hold back a grin.

“You look better than I do, god damn. Then again, you weren’t the one who drank two asshats under the table, so…” Alex trails off. Yeah no she’s definitely blushing profusely. It could remind Jonas vaguely of the videos— but an aftermath. Ruffled hair, all bruises and bite marks, the collar of Ren’s borrowed shirt popped up to just barely cover them. They’re still pretty god damn visible. Especially the one he’d left near where her neck met her shoulder, seeing as she hadn’t bothered to button the thing up all the way.

Another observation: She wasn’t wearing anything _ underneath _ said shirt. “Also, uh, quick question? Since _ someone _won’t explain it to me.”

Nona places a hand on her chest. “I had nothing to do with your bad choices, Al.”

“Ugh. Anyways, Jonas… Do you remember what happened last night? At all? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t, and the two mischief makers keep telling me to ask you.”

-

Jonas’s eyes flick to Nona as Alex speaks— and the black-haired girl is failing to hide a small smirk as she turns to the fridge. When he looks back to Alex, and catches her blush, he follows the trail of pink over her cheeks to her ears and down—

Oh geez. Okay. Yeah, he’d seen them when he woke up but that was in a barely-lit basement and now she’s in sunlight and _ shit _ those are some hickeys. He’s a little dumbstruck, to be honest. He tries to remember what he was like with the last girl he hooked up with and if he left nearly so many marks. …No? Which means either _ he _ was extra into it last night, or _ she _ was. Or both. 

He’s been staring at her neck - at the crescent of purple peeking out from under the collar (that’s not her shirt, right? Wait, whose shirt is she wearing?) - for too long, and quickly brings his eyes to her face again, flicking back to Nona to follow the conversation, and—

God, it’s like he’s been kicked in the chest. She doesn’t remember? Like, not even just his level of haziness, but doesn’t remember _ any _ of it? His blush quickly blooms to match hers, too visible in the afternoon light as it works down his neck and across his chest. “Um.” His voice is a hell of a lot deeper than it was a second ago when calling for Ren. Like he’s swallowed a pound of rocks. Feels like it, too. 

He’s still not all the way down the stairs, and upon realizing that resumes his path. Even if now he kinda wishes he’d stayed upstairs. Jonas completely avoids looking at Alex as he heads back into the kitchen, feeling too stiff in his movements. “I, um…” He clears his throat, awkwardly. “Some of it,” he mumbles, reaching for the fruit basket on the counter and picking out a peach. Good. Something to keep his mouth full so he has time to think before responding. Though really, he’d rather not be thinking at all at the moment. 

Eyes on his hands as he rinses the fruit in the sink, Jonas addresses Nona. “Hey, any idea who had my phone last night? It was on the coffee table in the basement.”

-

Jonas has now learned two different things about both Alex and Nona. Nona, when confronted with something she’s done in secret, flushes bright red all the way down to her fingertips. And when Alex doesn’t get full answers…

She has herself wrapped around his back in record time after she springs across the room and latches on tight. “Nope! No avoiding shit for you, Jo-Jo, I got holes in my memory and I want ‘em filled!”

Yeah she’s not letting go anytime soon. Alex has her heels locked just over his stomach and her hands underneath his arms, a rather annoyed look on her face. This isn’t the first time she’s had to pry the truth out of someone and it won’t be the last. 

-

Once again— if she jumps on him, he can’t just _ let her fall_, so the peach is wedged between his teeth and his hands are hooked around her thighs ‘cause she’s probably gonna pull him down too, if she falls. He wants to complain, to tell her to get off of him, but the best he can do is grumble around the fruit, trying and failing to keep it from dripping down his chin. She’s a fuckin’ devil. 

…Wait—

Her wriggling around to free an arm just makes him hold on tighter - ‘cause she’s gonna fall and crack her head open at this rate - and he glances over his other shoulder, looking for a place to set her down to free his hands. If he backs up against the counter, maybe…

-

“First question, pretty boy: who the hell left-” she drags Ren’s shirt down around her collarbones as best she can one handed, showing off the angry purple and red marks, and Nona lets out a noise that sounds like a peep, “-these on me?”

-

Even if he can’t quite see exactly what she’s referring to he’s got a pretty clear picture of it seared into his head and— well, maybe he _ shouldn’t _ free up his hands, ‘cause right now he’s safely silenced with a full mouth and that means he doesn’t have to admit to anything. He does, however, turn an irritable glare on Nona, who is not doing nearly enough to stop this mess. 

-

Nona winces just a bit, offering up an apologetic smile to Jonas before she settles herself up on the counter. She could answer both of those questions, and she cracks under pressure easily. But she waits for just a little bit longer, to take a picture of Alex essentially piggybacking him, before sliding her phone back into her pocket and heaving a sigh.

“I had your phone last night, Jonas. Found it when I walked in the latter half of the party.” 

-

If looks could kill, Jonas’s glare at Nona for snapping a pic would turn straight up lethal when she admits to having had his phone. _ Why?! Why the fuck would you do that, can’t things just be kept private for fuck’s sake_— But his mouth is full and he can’t growl what he wants to, and— fine, okay, _ fine, _ maybe it’s better her than someone else but _ still. _

-

At least she has the decency to sound guilty. And then she goes redder than a tomato. “And— Alex, uhm— Ren, said not to say, but…”

“Say what? Why are people not _ telling _me things today? I swear-”

Alex is cut off when Nona sends the words out in a rush, “Jonaswastheonewholeftallthosemarksonyou!”

Oh. Oh _ shit. _Her head whips back around to the person she’s currently latched onto, those brown eyes blown up wide. 

-

He’s been looking for a place to set Alex - or ostensibly doing so, anyway - but when Nona lets the cat out of the bag, he goes still. Stone still. God, she just had to phrase it _ that way_, huh? If there was even a better way to put it. 

Jonas’s heart has lodged itself in his throat ‘cause this is— he didn’t want to talk about this, if he could avoid it. Kinda wished he could forget about such a huge mistake. Because it had to be a mistake, right? They’d been really fucked up, something had… _ something _ had happened, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember what _ exactly _ it was that had started it all. And then they’d made a mistake. It was an accident and it couldn’t happen again because of Reasons. 

He’s paranoid about her reaction, feeling her gaze even as his eyes stare blankly at the sink, unable to look at anyone. And his paranoid state has decided to carefully note every physiological change he can observe. Which means he’s suddenly _ very _ aware of every spot her skin is touching his, and the shape of her body pressed up against him. Her surprised breath brushing his shoulder, his neck. _ Shit shit shit. _His own breath is shallower than it should be for a second before, out of necessity, he sucks in a breath of peach juice and swallows too hard. 

Is it better or worse that he can’t defend himself? He feels like he should let go of her. But he’s still stuck stock still, ‘cause that’s just— it’s fight, flight, freeze, or fuck, and he’s frozen. 

-

Nona is the first to figure out she probably shouldn’t have said anything, considering Jonas looks like he’s about to kill her and Alex is clearly struggling to take things in. So to be safe, she reaches out and gently takes the peach out of his mouth, settling it into a free bowl and leaving with nothing more than a wave and a muttered apology. They need to work out whatever this is themselves, and she doesn’t want any part of that. 

Alex is still staring at him, more in surprise than anything, before she finally tears her eyes away and glances over the suddenly very interesting floor. This is a mess. This is such a huge fucking mess. Jonas had clearly been doing _ something _to her, and she thinks she enjoyed it? But she can’t remember anything, despite the fact that she wants to remember, because of course the one time she manages not to fuck up something good it’s when she’s drunk. God damn it, Alex. Great job.

-

_ That girl is a fuckin’ _ **_peach_**_,_ Jonas thinks about as bitterly as possible as Nona leaves. Just abandoning them to deal with the mess she just made. Great. Swell. _ Super. _

He’s had long enough to actually eat the one bite of fruit he managed, and Alex still hasn’t responded. Gradually, his body stiffly comes back into play, and he steers backward to set her up on a counter, letting go of her and nudging out of her grasp. Looking at her is going to be difficult. Mostly because he’s scared of how she’s reacting, but also because he was made too aware by their _ way too close _ contact that she’s definitely not wearing whatever she’d had on last night, because there was all of one layer of fabric between them and it was thin. And he’d rather not let his eyes wander, really. 

Instead, keeping his back to her, he goes for the sink, rinsing off the aftermath of a peach gag. Which, really, could not have been more awkward. The silence feels oppressive, and the water on his face might as well be steaming with how hot his skin feels. 

“…Look, I— we made a mistake. It’s fine. Just… it won’t happen again. We can just… forget about it.” 

-

Ow. Ow, okay, that… “A mistake.” Her voice comes out more strangled than it should. Alex isn’t looking at him anymore, and slowly slides off of the counter. Is that what he thinks of the whole thing? Just some drunken mistake, an almost one-night-stand, nothing? Well shit. She’s fucked. Okay, yeah, cool, if Alex can just do something to try and avoid screaming right now that would be smart.

-

What, she thought he did that on purpose? That he found her - drunk - got her high, just so he could make out with her? “Yeah I— I would never… I mean, that’s just… I wouldn’t do that.” Like God, yeah he’d thought about kissing her but he wasn’t _ that _ much of a creep, Christ.

-

“That isn’t—” Why can’t she talk like a normal person for more than five minutes? Seriously? Alex presses her hands to her temples, tries to stave off her still-there hangover, and sets her jaw. “That’s not what I meant. I know you wouldn’t— _ take advantage _ of me, that’s happened before, and I don’t think that’s what happened.” Even if she can’t remember shit and her eyes are burning and she _ can’t move _and it all reminds her of something far off; distant.

“If you think being with me, like that, was a mistake? I’ll forget. Hell, I’ll forget I ever knew you, if you want me to. But that wasn’t a mistake to me.” And there she goes. Away from the counter, into the next room, shouting over her shoulder. “I can forget. That’ll be easy.”

-

Something in him snags a bit at _ that’s happened before _ but she’s still talking. And he’s shaking his head, because she can’t— she can’t _ get it_, she obviously doesn’t get what he’s—

Wait, where is she going?

Jonas turns and she’s halfway out of the room already. He takes a step, then stops, because it could only be worse if he follows after her, right? Still, he’s talking, and it’s frustrated and pointed and maybe a little angry. “You don’t— you don’t even _ need _ to forget Alex, don’t you get that? You didn’t remember it to begin with! Neither of us did! So - _ obviously _ \- we weren’t in our right minds.” She’s gone and he’s just calling after her at this point. “We were fucked up, Alex, no one makes clear decisions when they’re that fucked up!”

-

Alex rounds on him, and her face is twisted up in anger, but it’s desperate and wild and something so familiar to Jonas even though he’s never seen it before. Maybe he has. Maybe in odd stares, or in news reports on her brother’s death, or even in the way she holds things; and then she runs at him. She’s not throwing a punch, instead Alex has that cross necklace of his wrapped up in her hands and she tugs him down to her level before kissing him again.

-

He wants to flinch away from the glare she turns on him, but he’s still got that determined look on his face, steeling himself as she comes running at him, ‘cause he’s not about to hit a girl even if she thinks she’s gonna hit him. 

But she doesn’t hit him. 

The effect is similar enough. 

-

It’s hard, and fast, and their teeth clack together which makes her lip bleed but she doesn’t even care. 

When Alex pulls away, she _ shoves _ him back into the kitchen, eyes still stinging as she screeches at Jonas. “_I’m not fucked up now!” _

-

It kind of feels familiar, which is just _ weird _, but he’s too surprised to analyze at the moment, and before he even has a chance to kiss her back— and he’s about to, too, he’s leaned forward and his hands have relaxed out of fists like he might reach for her, but— she’s shoved him away. He stumbles back a few steps, dazed. He just stares, something wet smudged against his mouth, and he absently licks his lips. 

-

Then she stands there. Lets the anger burn off, even if it’s still stabbing at her gut, hammering her head, _ everything hurts— _ Jesus Christ everything hurts. Rubbed the wrong way and raw with blood rolling down her chin. 

-

It’s taking a second, because things need to click into place. Here he’d been thinking— he’d been _ so sure _ that he was the one who’d started everything. The marks on her neck seem to point to him being the perpetrator, but… so… So that means… So _ she_…

He’s a little breathless, a little confused. “You’re bleeding.”

-

Alex turns on her heel, quietly stalking away. Not worth it. He’s said enough.

-

And she’s gone. This time he’s not even going to _ try _ to follow after her. Not now. Not after that realization, ‘cause he’s still reeling. 

He’s still staring after her when Ren wanders around the corner. “Well. That was explosive. Lovers’ quarrel?”

Jonas just blinks. Finally, he turns his attention to the guy who seemed all too aware of exactly what went down. “What happened last night?” Ren looks too cocky, and has hardly opened his mouth before Jonas clarifies, “I mean— I saw the pictures. But, like… how did it happen? ‘Cause I don’t think either of us know how… _ that _ started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how sometimes you remember that you always wanted to write for a teen soap? This was one of those times for me. Did it work? Too much? (Okay, maybe too much, but also, all fic is self-indulgent and we love it for that.) Drop a comment, I'm ISO reactions ;D  
-Turner
> 
> (another note: like this kind of content? feel like you want other to find it? good news! I make hype posts over on my tumblr! you can find [the pretty ones here](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20aesthetics), and [all the rest here](https://onewhoturns.tumblr.com/tagged/my-writing), if you feel like helping spread the good word. ^^)


	21. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know… it's been a while. And yeah, the others haven't been updated either… >< Look, there's this thing called a winter slump, and it hit hard, and we're lucky to have had a ton of backlog to keep posting while I am unable to write -.-' 
> 
> In any case, have some drama and feelings and complex internal dilemmas.  
-Turner

**SEVENTEEN**

Alex is more than prepared to walk home, to just forget she’d ever done anything with Jonas, but she storms into the basement to grab her stuff and there’s Nona sitting on the steps. Apparently the girl heard more than she’d thought, as almost instantly she’s standing up to offer her blue-haired partner a hug. Alex takes it. She’s not quite crying, but she’s not quite alright, and Nona is kind of the queen of comfort. Mom friend. Well— the sometimes mom friend, sometimes person following around the dumpster fire, it depended on the day really.

“Hey, I heard— Al, are you okay?” 

She shakes her head. Nope. Not really. 

It earns a tired kind of sigh from the other girl. “Do you wanna talk about it, or do you just wanna sit here for a hot second?”

“Sit. Just… I need to sit.” Nona helps her onto the bottom step, and Alex leans up against her, both arms wrapped around one still swathed in her sweater from last night. There are things about Nona that make her unforgettable. Her feel is one of them. All soft edges and glances. It makes Alex feel safe, even if her lip is still dribbling a bit of blood, and Jonas is just somewhere doing his own thing. Probably forgetting. That still hurts.

-

So. Jonas, apparently, is not as awful as he’d thought. 

Now he just feels like crap. 

“-And I said you guys couldn’t get down and dirty right there in front of my metaphorical salad, so you stopped and apologized and just, like, cuddled. It was cute. You guys are cute.”

Jonas groans. Well. That was… Shit. “We’re not— I mean, we weren’t—” His elbows are on the bar, head in his hands. “This wasn’t even a thing until last night.” He’s not about to start spilling his guts to Alex’s stoner bff. Or, he didn’t think he’d be. “I mean, not to say—” He waves a hand. They’d been friendly. She’d fallen asleep in his car, on his chest, on a phone call with him. But he’d never expected… 

“She’s a student. I mean— that’s… that’s not good. And I’m too old for her, it’s creepy.”

Ren snorts. “Are you serious? You’re what… 19?” 

A couple weeks away from it. “College students shouldn’t date high schoolers. It’s weird.” 

“Yeah: a 22 year old shouldn’t date a 16 year old.”

“Exactly.”

Ren laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jonas. You’re like a year ahead of us. Take it back a year and it’s just a senior dating a junior, it’s not an issue.” 

Jonas is shaking his head, because there are a lot of reasons that this relationship is Wrong and Problematic and Ren can’t possibly understand because— because Jonas subscribes to the _ vague moral guilt _ of religion without actively attending church. “She’s still a student. My mom’s student. How can I be fair if—” God, he can’t even _ think _ the word _ relationship_. “There was— someone last night thought— and said that I was probably fixing her grades and-”

“You are taking this waaay too seriously, dude.” Ren pats him on the shoulder, not nearly as torn up about all of this as he should be, in Jonas’s opinion. “Can’t you just, like… recuse yourself?” 

“But people will think-”

“If you care what people think, Alex isn’t the right person for you. She’s the antithesis of groupthink.” He sounds weirdly proud of that, and on second thought Jonas thinks it’s a fair assessment. “People are gonna talk about Alex no matter what. It’s something she’s been stuck with since…” 

Since… her brother. Right. 

Ren shrugs. “She’s used to it. She says fuck it. So should you.” The sentence has a second to hang in the air before Ren’s smile hooks into a smirk, and Jonas rolls his eyes at the innuendo. 

“Thanks.” It’s deadpan, entirely for his last comment rather than the rest of their conversation. It was… kinda helpful? At least it let him get some of the guilt off his chest. 

“Look, I’m not here to tell you what to do. Technically, I’m going to be a biased bystander no matter what, ‘cause, yknow, biffles and all that. But seriously, don’t let some public opinion _ bullshit _ be the thing deciding what you do.”

-

Well. This is just her life now, huh? Quietly sitting on the steps with Nona as she tries not to think about everything that just happened. Alex swipes a hand across her face, inhales, and just holds herself there. Jonas thought it was a mistake. Maybe for different reasons than she had, but it was still a mistake to him, and she can’t even comprehend that right now. At all. She needs to stop thinking. She needs a hit, or a drink, or _ something _ other than this uncomfortably numb feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Nona is humming. It’s not something new, but it’s still a comfort, and eventually she’s dragged them both to lay on the ground just underneath where they’d been sitting before so that Alex can tuck herself against her and breathe for a minute. “You know, Al, you did this when… y’know.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“This really screwed you over, huh?”

“…Yeah.” No, fuck, her voice breaks and Alex isn’t ready to start crying because this is so stupid, and it’s all over some boy who clearly didn’t care about her anyways, fucking— fuck.

“Well, I’ll beat him up for you.”

She snorts suddenly. “What?”

“I will! I will beat up Jonas for you, if you want.”

“Nona, you’re like half his size.”

“Perfect height to punch him in the dick.” And now she’s laughing, soft and strained, but it’s there. Nona scoots down enough to look her over, holding Alex’s cheeks in her hands as she wiggles her face back and forth a bit. It only makes her laugh harder, and soon enough the only reason she’s crying is because she’s red in the face and she can’t think anymore. “There’s my blue baby.”

“Aw, c’mon, I hate that nickname.”

“_Bluuuuuuue baby._”

“Nona!”

-

After being assured that - yes, it’s fine - no, no one will notice - and, even if they do he won’t be in trouble for it - Jonas accepts Ren’s dad’s gym shorts while Ren chucks the rest of Jonas’s stuff in the wash. Now he just has to wait. Awkwardly. In Ren’s too-big house, knowing Alex is somewhere being upset and just trying to figure out how the hell he can apologize.

“You decent?” Ren is in the door before he’s finished knocking, and Jonas is glad that, yes, he’s wearing pants, thanks for respecting boundaries. 

“A shirt?”

“Your stuff is gonna take like an hour or so.”

“Yeah, but— can I get a shirt?”

“I’m gonna set up Mario Kart downstairs. Get your ass to the living room.”

Jonas is frowning over the invasion - and the blatant refusal to _ just fucking clothe him _ \- but he sighs because… yeah, the twerp is annoying, but he kinda owes him after the weird kinda-sorta pep talk/lecture he got earlier.

“Brownies in the kitchen if you need some loosening up, my good man.”

O…kay? Jonas watches Ren disappear before the realization hits him. Oh. _ That _ kind of brownie. Yeah, no, he’s gonna go into this stone cold sober. Has to, really, or he’ll just be a hypocrite. Even if some cynical part of him definitely recognizes the appeal. 

He’s not about to go exploring Ren’s house (at least not when people are waiting on him), so he dutifully travels the one path he knows back down the stairs and into the kitchen and… There’s soft laughter coming from around the corner. The living room. Where he’s going to have to see Alex. And say… something. Sorry, preferably. Some variation on it. 

His feet are dragging a bit, but he does it. Somehow. 

The laughter dies as soon as she catches sight of him.

“…Hey.” Well, that’s a start.

-

Alex doesn’t look up from where she is. She doesn’t even respond. Just lays there with her head on Nona’s chest and tries to avoid the fact that Jonas is here, and he’s talking, and this is too much why the hell is he even here? Probably Ren. Fucking Ren. Don’t blame Ren for some other guy’s mistakes. Complications. The smaller girl tugs herself up a bit, and brings Alex into her lap so that she can properly sit and address Jonas. 

“Hey there. Guess you’re staying a little while longer, huh?” How can Nona be so casual about this? How is anyone being casual right now? The whole house had to have heard that fight, it’s impossible for her to have any sense of what’s going on-

“Ow! Ren, what the fuck?” Alex’s head whips around when she feels herself getting clocked in the back with a controller. He’s got that shit eating _ c’mon-just-talk-for-a-minute _ grin on his face, and she doesn’t pull away from Nona, but she’s definitely about ready to kill someone. “I am going to pound you into the ground, funny man.”

He just whistles. “Mario Kart way, or real life way?”

“Still deciding.” Woah there. Okay. Ren actually looks kind of scared. Does she look that angry? Shit.

-

Jonas’s eyes haven’t left Alex. She’s refusing to look at him. Seems fair. “Um… yeah.” His answer to Nona is lost in the sudden spat between Alex and her best friend, and he uses the distraction to take a seat on the perpendicular leg of the sectional. Same couch, but about as far from her as he can get on it.

“Can I, uh…” He gestures to the blanket Nona is sitting on, ‘cause he feels kinda… Well, it’s a little weird wearing another man’s shorts. And that combined with the lack of shirt and shoes and… Naked might be a good way to describe it. 

Nona is reaching to pull the thing out when Ren catches her movement. 

“Nuh-uh. No blanket for Jonas. He’s in penance mode.”

“Seriously?” Jonas shoots him an annoyed glance and Ren just grins. 

“I like the eye candy.”

He just sighs, heavily. “Fine.”

“Also-” 

Jonas catches the hucked controller with one hand. 

“-You’re Baby Rosalina. _ Penance._”

-

Alex snorts slightly, though it’s more out of her best friend talking about ‘penance’ than anything else. If that were a real thing, they’d all be in hell right now. Which, honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised. It kind of feels like hell. Jonas is across the couch, and she can’t do anything, but oh well. Her life is miserable and dumb. Learned that little tidbit by the age of seven. 

After Ren chooses Bowser Jr, Nona snags Shy Guy and Alex eventually chooses Peach, they’re off to the races. It’s on random, because they always have it set on random, and of course Alex is winning. She’s got a track record for being pretty damn good at video games, more specifically first person shooters and horror, but Mario Kart is alright. It’s simple enough to pick up a back-and-forth as they play, Nona listening in to roll her eyes at some cheap quip every so often. And it’s almost… normal. Almost normal. Alex can’t quite forget the fact that Jonas is still right on the sidelines, just waiting there. 

It’s burning her up inside. And not in a good way. In the way an atom bomb goes off. There’s a flash of something, people scream, and then it’s ringing and rough wind and horrible, terrible silence. Shadows the only thing left of people. Even then, it isn’t over, because of ashy rain and radioactive debris. She’s in about the detonation mode. Technically it had gone off, but not all of the aftermath had been felt. Within a few minutes, she has a feeling it will.

-

He’s just about to finish the final leg of the tournament (in last, because… well, yeah, Penance), when he feels something small and hard his the back of his head. Baby Rosalina scoots over the finish line at last as Jonas glances up only to find Ren giving him a pointed look. He raises an eyebrow. Ren jerks his head toward Alex. Jonas lets out a breath, scoots to the edge of the couch, ready to stand. 

“Um. Alex, can I… talk to you for a second?” This is where he offers up his apology. If she’ll hear it. And, to be honest, he’s not sure she will. But… he _ is _ sorry. 

Ren is looking at Alex. Nona is looking at Alex. Jonas is looking at Alex.

Ren looks a bit too eager. Nona looks intrigued. Jonas looks too awkward and too embarrassed.

-

Alex, very pointedly, stares at the screen as she starts resetting for another game and tries not to just start railing on him right then and there. Ren probably put him up to this. Jonas doesn’t seem to be one for confrontation without good reason, and Nona had been with her hearing that side of the story, so that only leaves her best friend. Who is a serious fan of drama, when it comes his way. But she also knows he doesn’t really want anyone getting hurt, even if that’s how it always ends up with fights like this. 

Her posture is near perfect, back oddly straight, legs tucked up underneath her. Nona knows that tic. It’s the one where Alex tries to drown everything out, to become something she isn’t, and that’s really not a good sign.

When she speaks, it’s flat. “Yeah. Sure. What did you need?”

-

Shit. That can’t be good. But maybe it’s better than her straight up biting his head off? Jonas takes in the way she’s sitting, the way she’s speaking. …Or maybe not. It’s like he can see the solid wall she’s built around herself. 

Jonas glances at Ren, ‘cause— really? Is this the best time for this? But Ren gives that half nod, eyebrows raised encouragingly. 

He takes a deep breath, and slowly stands, unsure if he should approach her or not. “…Privately?”

-

The controller is quietly placed onto the ground, and Alex pushes herself up just after him, walking toward a different room. He wants to talk privately? She’ll give him that much. No reason not to. Making a show of this isn’t her goal, if she even has one. Probably just staying civil. Which is doubtful. Nona looks like she’s drilling holes into Ren’s head with her eyes, and he just smiles, trying to shrug.

Nona turns toward Jonas, and heaves a sigh, motioning for him to follow Alex. “She does this sometimes. You should be fine— if you’re careful. Don’t treat her like she’s broken.” There’s a subtle pause, as Nona shakes her head. “Makes it worse.”

-

What does that even _ mean? _Jonas hesitates for a second before taking a deep breath and following after. 

Alex has turned to face him and he is pulled up short, ending up a lot closer than he’d intended. The chill she’s practically radiating is… intimidating. 

“I need to apologize. For— for saying it was a mistake. That was… that was just… reactionary. I woke up and you looked like— well, I couldn’t remember all of it, and I thought I might have done something that you _ didn’t _want, and— and then there’s…” He rubs a hand over his face. Words aren’t working like they should.

“Look, I…” The blush is spreading over his chest again, ears burning. “Last night…” His hand pauses for a second before he reaches into his pocket. “I guess Nona caught some of it and… and it’s really jarring to see something you don’t remember, yknow? That you-” he swallows hard, avoiding looking at her as he hands over the phone. “-that you really wish you did.” 

-

For a long moment, Alex just stares at him, and then takes the phone with some resignation. It’s already open, but she has a feeling there’s something specific she’s looking for, quietly swiping through his photos. And there it is. That damning evidence Jonas was so freaked out over. The things she can’t remember at all. What was it he’d said again? No one made choices in their right minds when they were so fucked up.

Well, she certainly had been then. But she’d repeated things back to him. The fact that she isn’t fucked up now, and she can… comprehend the videos, here. He’d thought he did something stupid. He’d thought he’d been taking advantage of her. That wasn’t what it was. Clearly, but Jonas couldn’t see that, until something fixed the skewed perspective.

Ren. 

Alex puts the phone back into his hands. “I told you. It’s happened before. That’s not what you thought it was.”

-

She hands him back his phone and he lingers. Again, that _ it’s happened before. _ There’s a small crease in his brow, some tiny touch of hurt and anger, that he has to shrug off because _ don’t treat her like she’s broken _ and don’t derail the conversation, even if it feels important. 

There’s something else he has to say, if he’s going to put it all out in the open. “I…” Jonas lets out a breath. “If we weren’t… I don’t think I would’ve kissed you. Not— I mean, I don’t think _ I _ would’ve kissed _ you._” He’s trying to clarify, but he’s not sure if it’s working. “I would have wanted to, but-” There’s a lump in his throat, ‘cause— well, he just out and said it, didn’t he? Better barrel on past that. “-But I have some… reservations. Because. Well, I know they’re stupid. I just… worry, I guess. I had kind of… a reputation. In North Valley. And people would… talk. And I just… I’ve been trying to be better, y’know? For my mom. She-” Yeah, he’s really getting into this, isn’t he?

“I know I mentioned she was sick. She was… really sick. Like… like she was probably going to die. And. And I was just… being a stupid kid. I… did some stuff.” He’s glaring at the top of a cabinet, fidgeting a little. “Stuff I’m not super proud of. And when things finally turned around…” His fingers come up, wrapping themselves in the chain of his necklace. “People were still— …And then with the whole memory thing…” 

This is probably the longest he’s just talked before, and he’s not sure if he’s glad that she’s not responding or if he’s even more unsettled that she’s letting him talk himself into a corner. “We got a new start here. I want it to be one where I’m not a— a shit kid, y'know? And… And I thought that if I ever— if we— if I did what I _wanted_ to do-” He can’t emphasize it enough. The he did - that he _does_ _want_ to do… whatever this is. “-it would become a thing. Because of— well, the school thing, and the age thing, and… I dunno. People would talk, and it would…” He shrugs, helplessly. “I mean, fuck ‘em, I guess. It’s too late for that, and— and I know I shouldn’t care. I know that. Rationally, I know it doesn’t matter. I just… That’s why. Why I thought… I thought _I_ might have been the one…” 

The words are still running in loops around his head, and he’s sure he must have forgotten something, but if he keeps talking, he'll just repeat himself all over again. Instead, he just shrugs lamely. “I’m sorry.” The cross is digging into his palm, chain wrapped tight around his fingers, turning the tips red, biting into the back of his neck. It takes a second before he can meet her eyes, not quite holding his breath.

-

Alex’s jaw is set, and she’s just looking at him, head-on and more than angry. But it isn’t all there, either. Something in her face, her eyes, is off. 

And then there’s a quiet kind of shift that makes her deflate from her soldier-like posture to lean against the wall, arms crossing over her chest in a protective manner. “Stop talking. Just— stop talking, for a minute, and listen. You’re rambling like a motherfucker and making yourself look stupid.”

-

Jonas shuts up. Because she’s probably right. There’s a bit of annoyance in his sudden silence, but not much. He just… waits, hands dropping to his sides. Whatever she’s gonna say, at least it won’t be him spilling his guts anymore. 

-

There’s a few moments of silence, where she’s waiting for him to say something else, for him to deliberately disobey. But he doesn’t, and why would she ever think that, because he follows every possible social cue to its exact letter even if he doesn’t need to and God that pisses her off.

“You’re kind of a coward, sometimes. Not in the way that most people think cowards are. You hide behind a good kid mask, and you walk in silence, and it doesn’t seem like anything can phase you but it does. I know it does, I’ve seen it— I see it, Jonas, every time you turn around it’s like something is going to pop up and fucking swallow you whole.” Alex has to force her voice into something blunted, something other than yelling, a one-tone snap of beats. “I don’t know if it’s how you were raised, or if it’s what happened as you were growing, up, but it’s— God, it’s so fucking _ stupid. _ You are an _ idiot, _ Jonas Long, and you can’t see it. Because you’re trying so hard to be what you aren’t. Like a robot.”

She’s going too fast, and she knows she is. So for once, Alex slows down. She closes her eyes, breathes in through her nose, holds it there for a few seconds. “Looking for people’s approval isn’t going to get you what you want. I know that. I learned that, ages ago, when I watched my brother drown in Horn Lake. When I was questioned like a murderer. When I had to go to that funeral, the memorial, when I was stared at like a fucking freak because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time with someone I loved. So I _ stopped being a coward. _ Sure, I tried at first, to be what they wanted. To be accepted. But it doesn’t work like that. I dyed my hair, I said fuck it, I became something else - _ someone _ else - because that was who I was. I wasn’t some grief-stricken helpless maiden. I was, and I am, Alex goddamn Strickland. And I don’t change for anybody.”

Alex picks herself up off of the wall. “And neither should you.”

-

His eyes snap to hers and he looks even more irritated as she straight-up calls him a coward, but— ugh. Can’t interrupt her now. And, yeah, what she says is— it makes him angry. And how she’s acting like it’s not pissing her the hell off, too. Angry and… kinda sad. She’s not— well, she’s not _ entirely _ right, but she might have a point but he doesn’t want to hear it because he’s trying to be…

Maybe she’s-

He’s not-

Jonas’s breath is a little too heavy, his blood a bit up at the accusation, and at the way she turns it right back on herself. There’s an energy coursing through him, simmering, but he clenches his jaw and stays silent as she lectures him. She’s bitter. He was, too. Why else had he been such a ticking fucking time bomb back then? Fear and anger and bitterness that the world would deal him such a shit hand. He’d lashed out. It wasn’t productive. It just made everyone around him sad, or scared, or angry. 

She still does it though, doesn’t she? She’s still stuck in a place where she can’t get out of that mold her community has made for her, and she _ needs _ to make herself someone else, to prove she’s not the person they say she is. They aren’t so different, in that way. But Alex is wild. She’s a storm of chaos, because chaos feels good sometimes, and feels better when it’s done out of spite. And sometimes getting that chaos out makes it easier to do the things that need doing. To make it through. So perhaps it _ is _ productive, in a backhanded destructive kind of way.

His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, watching her with sharp eyes. Her story isn’t fair. Her argument isn’t either, but he gets it. She’s running on pure spite for a lot of her life, he thinks. And he’s grateful to have witnessed times when that just wasn’t true. The open grin to the waitress at the diner. The sad smile she had fessing up to her own backwards kind of camouflage. _ I’m not that impressive myself. I rely on other people to do that for me. And my hair. _ The sheer panic and utter defenselessness waking screaming from a nightmare. 

She’s got that hard-edged, stubborn look about her, her tone not quite scorn as she gets her last word. Fine. She can have it. He’s still watching intently through narrowed eyes. Still breathing hard breaths. Still looking just a bit pissed off. It’s just— it’s frustrating. Seeing the holes in her logic - this thin, hypocritical argument - and knowing he can’t say anything about it. Because part of it is right, and the rest she’s clinging to so desperately that he can never get her to see truth. 

There’s a second of silence. 

Then he lunges, and she’s not getting out of this because she might not know it but she _ needs this _ and fuck asking, she’d just lie, and maybe that’s not the way to think of things but she said it first, that he needed to _ do things _ and not just _ do good_. 

And then he’s got his arms around her, tight, because this has worked before. She can’t see it, but her defense has suddenly made things very clear - made some very raw wounds visible - and he’s going to do what he can to help that. And if that’s a hug… well, it’s one thing he’s good at. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Hopes and dreams? Reactions? Emotions? Emojis? Curious for comments, friends

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a comment!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [get some sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874917) by [OneWhoTurns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoTurns/pseuds/OneWhoTurns)


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